Teach Me How To Fly
by Lawi01
Summary: Jax Hull doesn't believe in fairytales. That is, until she is kidnapped by a flying ship and taken to an island she never thought existed where she has to either teach a flying boy how to fly or be stranded and hunted forever.
1. I Don't Believe In Fairies

**A/N: On a Peter Pan rampage ;) Had a bit of writer's block for **_**She's a Lady**_**, so I just wrote this down really quickly for a bit of fun :P What do you think so far? This chapter's not particularly exciting, it'll get better, I promise -_-" Please enjoy! ^-^**

Jax Hull was in a foul mood.

That very morning she had been given an English assignment that demanded research of a popular fairytale. Following that, the students were required to analyze the fairytale and explain its significance in today's world, then to be delivered in an oral three to seven minutes long.

Most of the other kids in the class had been reasonably neutral about the entire affair. It'd be alright, they thought. A trip back in time, perhaps, going back to the days where it was OK to read fairytales. A few kids were even excited- finally, an excuse to indulge in childish pleasures once again!

Jax was not among those children.

Jax hated fairytales. It seemed a little unfair, seeing as she had never actually read any. Or perhaps she had. She couldn't remember anything from her childhood, let alone little things like fairytales. Regardless, she couldn't stand them. The idea of pulling wool over children's eyes and telling them fantastical tales about worlds that didn't exist… if there was one thing Jax hated, it was lying. By the time she had rediscovered fairytales, she was far too old.

At least, that was what her mother had told her when an eight-year-old Jax ran over to her with a box of books, and Chelsea Hull was always right.

Jax had never been a fan of fiction. Ever since the age of six, when she had officially become 'too old' for fairytales, she had read historical recounts and watched many documentaries under the careful eye of her mother. It didn't make much sense to Jax at first, but once she grasped it she was intrigued. Then one day her cousin had sent her a book for her birthday. It was a fairytale, but Jax couldn't quite remember what it was called now. Mrs. Hull had been disdainful upon seeing the book but agreed reluctantly to let her daughter keep it because it was, after all, a gift. That night, when Jax opened it, she was deeply disgusted. The very idea of ageless children flying about defied reason, and she did not like reason to be defied. She handed it back to her mother and they never spoke of it again.

Come to think of it, Mrs. Hull and Jax rarely spoke even now. As Jax grew older and older, Chelsea had less and less time to see her daughter until she began going to work very very early and returning very very late. Jax's wellbeing had become the task of Harriet the maid, and Jax had thought of Harriet as her mother for quite some time now. If it weren't for the photos on the mantelpiece, Jax was quite sure she would have forgotten Chelsea's face by now. Harriet was her mother now, and it was Harriet that greeted her stormy face that afternoon upon her return from school.

"What's the matter, deary?" She enquired, closing the door behind her young charge quietly.

"Stupid English assignment," She growled unhappily. "We have to research fairytales. Can you believe it?"

Harriet hesitated, knowing full well Jax's aversion to fairytales. "That's a shame," She said carefully.

"It's a pain in the… neck," Jax caught herself, eyeing the sixty-something maid cautiously. "I hardly have a choice though," She added pointedly, then sighed. "I'll be in the study. Call me when dinner's ready, will you?"

"Of course, love. Don't get too worked up, now."

Jax smiled fleetingly over her shoulder as she made her way up the staircase. "I try, Harriet. I try."

Once upstairs, Jax slammed the study door shut with a kick and a frustrated sigh, tossing her bag down unceremoniously before leaping into an office chair and spinning over to the curtains, which she abruptly tore open. Sunlight flooded the room, and a satisfied Jax pushed herself over to the desk where she turned on the monitor with a gentle kick. She whistled quietly as she waited, trying to distract herself from the task ahead. She couldn't quite describe why fairytales got her so worked up, but she couldn't help herself.

She had a long way to go.

Once the computer was started, Jax began the gruelling task of picking out one infuriating story. She typed the hated word into Google and was greeted by a myriad of responses. She was tempted to just go straight to fables- it wouldn't be hard to explain a deeper meaning in that- but her teacher had beaten her to it and asked specifically that there be no fables. Jax could deal with fables. Just not fairytales. Please, not fairytales. She scrolled down a few pages lazily, but the very titles of some of the stories threw her off. She read the first page or so of a few, but quickly got annoyed and abandoned that story in favour of something else. She spent a good hour trying to be positive, but ultimately gave up after the hundredth crappy story. With a frustrated sigh, she stood and made her way back downstairs again. Harriet was in the kitchen cooking a roast that already smelled amazing.

Harriet looked up and saw her young charge and smiled. "How'd you go?" She asked politely.

Jax sighed and slumped in her chair. "They're just so _stupid_," She complained childishly. "I'm sure there's a reasonably good fairytale out there somewhere…"

"We may have one or two left on our shelves here," Harriet said thoughtfully. "Would you like to have a look?"

Jax sighed. She didn't really want to do the assignment at all, but she nodded once and ran a hand through her unruly dark hair. "Sure."

Whenever Harriet moved, she never really walked. It was more of a shuffle, really. Her old little feet moved at a small distance and in such a way that it appeared that she was bobbing up and down as she moved. Jax followed her tight silver bun through the hallways until they arrived in the over-crowded, little-used library. They wordlessly panned out, searching the shelves for any fairytales, but just as Jax had suspected, there were none there. If there ever had been any, her mother had probably removed them when she deemed Jax too old to read fairytales.

Harriet was still hopeful. "Maybe the attic," She speculated, absently looking up at the roof as she spoke. "Your mother got rid of plenty of things, but she could never bring herself to throw them out. She's a hoarder, she is." She chortled a little to herself. "You could find a fair few things of interest besides fairytales up there, I wager."

"I'm sure," Jax said absently. She wanted to tell Harriet that she could just check in the school library the next day (seeing as its organizational skills passed Jax's own by far) but she couldn't bring herself to deny Harriet.

And so they made their way up to the attic. The roast lingered in the back of Jax's mind, but Harriet waved her hand dismissively when Jax brought it up, claiming it would be 'fine'. Disappointed at her failure to divert Harriet's attention, Jax followed the little maid up the not-so-loved wooden staircase that went up into the roof and into the attic.

When Harriet turned the light on, the first thing that struck Jax was the modern-ness of the attic. It was just like the rest of the house, white walls with black edges. Well, the walls were white once upon a time. The dust had since stained them, or what little of them that Jax could see. Boxes crowded every square centimetre of the floor and crawled up the walls. There were no windows into the cramped room and it took some time for Harriet and Jax to pick their way through to the middle, at which point Harriet began scanning every box with her surprisingly brilliant eye to find anything that might help. Jax suggested unpacking the boxes, but Harriet didn't want to be the one cleaning it up afterwards and added that there was far too much stuff for them to unpack anyway. Harriet got right into it, crawling around on her hands and knees and peering over boxes to see what was scribbled on them. Jax searched half-heartedly and uncertainly, until finally…

"Here we go!" Harriet grunted from behind a tower of boxes. Her little arms reached over the tower, holding another box. Jax hurried over to her- as fast as she could hurry in the labyrinth of boxes- and took it from her, setting it down unhappily. She had really hoped that they would never find that box. Not for the first time, she speculated over her childish hate of fairytales (almost a contradiction) but she couldn't help it. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like an impulsive fear than a hatred, but she'd rather not dwell on it.

Back to the task at hand, namely helping Harriet clamber over the box tower and then relocating the fairytale box amongst all the other boxes.

They brought it back downstairs again and set it down on the table. Harriet then vanished back to the kitchen. With a reluctant sigh, Jax began sorting through them. They had the same titles as the ones she had seen before: Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Beauty and the Beast… She held a particular disdain for those stories. She hated how it was always the woman that needed saving. Jax was a strong feminist and could hardly stand the weak female character in all these stories. With an exasperated sigh, she tossed them aside carelessly until she got to the bottom of the pile. She almost overlooked it, but eager on finding at least one partially good story and getting this rotten assignment over and done with, she pulled it out and examined it. It was very old and very dusty, but once she had blown all the dust away she saw a dark green leather cover and two gold inlaid words on the cover. A red feather served as an underline to the words:

_Peter Pan_

Jax's feminist side twinged at the typically male name that served as the title, but curiosity urged her to open the front cover. On the first page was a brief handwritten message to _her._

_Dearest Jacqui,_

_We couldn't make it to your birthday this time, but we hope you enjoy this gift. Tommy loved it when he was a boy and now it's yours._

_Much love, Carla, Fred and Tommy xxx_

Her cousin and his family. They must have given it to her a while ago. The first thought that came to Jax's mind was why her mother had never let her keep it, seeing as it was, after all, a gift. Jax absently waltzed back into the kitchen, flicking through the pages quickly. She did not read the sentences in full, but caught words like 'Peter', 'Neverland', 'fly', 'Hook'. She sat down at the kitchen bench and continued swallowing little snippets of the book.

Imagine Harriet's surprise. "You found one?" She asked politely, hiding her shock.

Jax shrugged. "No guarantees," She reminded the maid, but she didn't sound too convincing.

Harriet craned her neck and read a sentence or two. She smiled. "Ah, _Peter Pan. _I _loved _that book when I was a child."

Jax flipped back to the front page. "It was given to my for my birthday, apparently," she explained. "From Carla."

"Ah, yes," Harriet sighed wistfully. "I remember. It was your sixth birthday, if I do remember correctly. Your mother didn't like it and you weren't too fond of it either. You hardly noticed when she packed all your things away, in fact."

Jax's ears pricked up. "'Packed all my things away'?" She repeated questioningly.

"Why, yes!" Harriet nodded. "When your mother thought you were too old for fairytales, she just packed away all your books, including that one. You never said a word!"

Jax couldn't remember any of it. She turned back to her book, mind reeling with questions she'd like to probe her mother with if she ever actually saw her again. "Huh."

Harriet smiled. "Looks like you're enjoying yourself there, sweetie."

Jax poked her tongue out jokingly. "It's just for English," She mumbled, but she didn't sound very convincing.

Dinner passed uneventfully. The normal chatter ensued as they ate- school, life, gossip. Harriet told Jax all about her exciting adventures down to the market and back and in return Jax told her about what an idiot her Maths teacher was to think that the Spartans were from Rome. Jax had begun learning things like that when she was little and, now at fourteen, was very intellectual for her age. Harriet enjoyed having conversations with her.

Once dinner was finished, Jax went upstairs for a shower and eventually bed. Harriet smiled when she saw the book tucked under her arm but said nothing apart from 'goodnight'. Sure enough, when Harriet went out a few hours later to turn Jax's lights out she was sitting up in bed and reading _Peter Pan. _She looked neither particularly delighted but she didn't look absolutely disgusted either. She smiled to herself as she turned the light out and moved back out to the corridor.

Jax listened at the door keenly. Once she was sure Harriet's footsteps had faded downstairs, she raced back to bed and dived under her blanket, flicking on a torch and continuing on with her reading. She was scribbling down notes for her assignment as she did so and had been through a fair few pages already. She couldn't say that this book had changed her view on fairytales forever, but she was ultimately surprised to find that she was sort of enjoying herself. The book was absurd (though not quite as absurd as _Alice in Wonderland_, she had to admit) but somehow it fascinated her. Perhaps it was because, as far as she knew, she had had no proper childhood. It made her wonder what being a child forever would be like. It intrigued her.

Finally, her eyelids drooped and her head hung low until at long last she fell asleep, sprawled across the pages of the first fairytale she had read in a very, very long time.

If she had known what was to follow, she would never have fallen asleep.


	2. Prisoner

**A/N: Next chapter ^w^ I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for the lame pirates names… Don't kill me. -.-"**

When Jax's eyes fluttered open again, her chin was wet with drool and the torch was a fair bit dimmer than it had been when she first started. She sat up groggily, wiping her saliva away from the book and folding the corner of the page down to mark her spot. Re-emerging from the bedcovers, she replaced the book back on her bedside table and looked at her clock blearily.

_12:55 A.M._

Jax's mind wasn't awake enough to take in any more thought other than that, and she abruptly fell back into her pillows and began to drift back off to sleep. It had only been about two seconds when a shadow passed over her face.

Shadows are not things that one can normally feel. They are neither cold nor warm, nor thick nor runny. And yet, as Jax lay there, half-asleep, a harsh chill suddenly rattled her spien and her eyes snapped open in alarm just as the shadow flitted over her face.

Suddenly alert, Jax sat up and looked around cautiously. The moonlight spilled into the room and the stars winked in the inky sky that was rolled out before her. A sudden draught of air hit her and she shivered again. She did not remember leaving her window open, and yet now her gauzy curtains fluttered in the breeze.

Breeze of what?

It was a calm night. The air was still and it was neither hot or cold. Jax glanced uneasily at her clock, but it was still only 12:56. Uncertainty swirled in her mind as she reluctantly settled back into bed, looking around cautiously as her head sank into the pillows once more. It was probably nothing, she told herself. She was just jumpy and drowsy. She had been reading about hook-handed pirates all night. (Not that a children's book was any reasonable excuse for a fourteen year old being jumpy, but still.)

Her eyes hesitantly slid shut, but her body remained stiff and tense, her eyes darting around under her lids. Seconds turned to minutes and nothing happened. Jax began to relax and she smiled at her foolishness. She felt sleep claiming her once more…

There it was!

Jax sat bolt upright again, heart thumping. The curtains were dancing again and a cold draught swept across her skin again, blowing her tangled hair away from her face and she smelt… _seawater_? Ridiculous. She was far away from the sea, and fishmongers were very few in this part of town.

Propelled by sudden curiosity, Jax untangled herself from her bed sheets and poked her head out the window, scanning the street carefully. There was nothing there. The streets were empty, all of the lights were turned off. The city was asleep. Leaning a little further out the window, so that she was balancing on the tips of her toes, she could've sworn that she saw what looked like a ship's mast protruding from the roof of her house. Jax blinked and looked again, and it was still there, getting more distinct as she watched. Mystified, she leaned even further forward.

_No way…_

The clock on her bedside changed to 1:00, the glow of its red digits spilling out over the cover of her book.

"Lovely mornin', en't it?"

Jax smothered a shriek and whirled around, but she didn't get a glimpse of her assailant before whoever it was kicked her square on the chest and sent her tumbling out the window, too stunned to scream.

There was a sudden _whoosh_ and Jax hit something hard. She gasped in pain, the wind knocked from her stomach, but did not have enough time to sit up and analyze what had just happened. Whatever she had landed on was moving, and it was moving fast. With an unpleasant lurch, she was thrown backwards, rolling across a hard wooden surface until she finally came to stop by a door. Whatever she was being carried on turned sharply and threw her in the other direction. It lurched downwards suddenly but righted itself quickly and slowed down a little, much to Jax's relief. She had just began to stumble to her feet when whatever she was standing on turned hard and sped off in another direction. With a cry Jax fell down again and found herself thrown against a back wall of some kind. Clumsily, she managed by some miracle to haul herself to her feet against a wooden rail of some kind. She was only half-standing and her arms were thrown over the side awkwardly, but as her chin rested on the rail she saw the unbelievable: she was on a ship, and she was _flying. _The tower she could distantly see from her window was a few metres away from the hull of the great wooden thing, and its towering spires seemed almost close enough to touch.

"Since when did ships _fly_?" She gasped aloud in wonderment until the ship swooped upwards suddenly, tossing Jax backwards like a ragdoll until she fell hard against the walls of a raised platform. The ship suddenly picked up speed and the force of its movement pinned Jax down to the wood she was sitting against. She could feel her hair being swept away from her face by a powerful wind made her eyes water. Blinking rapidly, she began to make out vague shapes, but they were quickly engulfed by a blinding white light that consumed everything. Jax yelped quietly in pain and confusion and lowered her head, attempting to avoid that glaring gaze that stared down at her. Searing heat flashed across her skin and even with her eyes closed the light threatened to blind her. There was a deafening roaring noise and Jax felt like she was being pulled in a million different directions at once. She heard voices yelling, but they were quickly drowned out. Jax couldn't take anymore. She didn't know what was going to happen to her, but it couldn't be good. She was at physical breaking point…

And then everything stopped. The light vanished and the noise cut off abruptly. Whatever vehicle was carrying her slowed to a graceful glide and she could feel a cool wind playing with her hair gently. She could move around now, she was pleased to note. She opened her eyes and blinked once or twice, accustoming her eyes to the sudden change of lighting.

Her sight had only barely adjusted when the sun was suddenly blocked out by two huge men. They were both incredibly ugly, faces riveted with scars and scabs and acne. She scowled down at her and hauled her to her feet, tossing her carelessly against a… _mast_. Totally confused and disoriented, Jax could only watch as the two big men tied her to the mast until, once again, she could not move. It took Jax a while to realize that there were several people watching her blink dazedly and stupidly, and when she did she instantly set about dignifying herself and taking in the scene.

_Men. _She was surrounded by huge, hulking, muscly but ultimately ugly men. Jax could smell them from where she stood and they were filthy. Swords dangled from their belts and their skin was red from overexposure to the sun. Their clothes were tatty and filthy and stained with all manner of things. Beyond them was, as the mast she was currently tied to would suggest, a ship. It was a lovely-looking antique ship, the type you see in all those pirate movies. Out of curiosity, Jax looked up (which was made rather difficult by the solid wooden mast that was strapped tightly to her back) and caught a brief glimpse of the famed Jolly Roger fluttering in the breeze over her head. Jax moved her gaze to her left, where she saw the rigging ropes billowing lightly as they passed by perfectly white, fluffy clouds. The ship was gently descending downwards, where it truly belonged.

_This has got to be the most ridiculous dream I've ever had, _Jax observed silently.

"What's yer name?" One of the men stepped forward and Jax brought her head down sharply again. If the voice was anything to go by, it was the same man who had pushed her out the window before. The man moved forward so he was standing right in front of her. Ignoring the horrific stench, Jax glared up at him defiantly from beneath the tangled masses of hair that had fallen over her face with unhappy chocolate eyes. She was no idiot and knew that these men were certainly not to be trusted, and so she did not reply.

With an irritated growl, the man's fat, meaty hand shot forward and wrapped itself around Jax's throat. She croaked in surprise as he wrenched her head up to face him. "I _said _what's yer name?" The man growled threateningly.

Jax's gaze didn't waver. "One finds it… rather difficult to speak when one is being strangled," She wheezed. The man glared down at her before releasing her neck with a grudging shove.

"What's yer name, lassie?" He growled again. Jax saw his fingers twitching and new the right answer this time. "And no lies."

"Jax," She answered cautiously, never breaking eye contact with the glaring man, who continued to glare.

"I said, no _lies_!" He snapped. "Does I really looks like I was born yesterday? Jacks is a boy's name, and youse is no boy."

"It's short for Jacqueline," Jax explained grudgingly. "And as for your birthday, you're far too ugly to be a one-day old baby."

The man was, apparently, disgusted by her behaviour and struck her face angrily. Jax's head spun to the side but she did not react besides from looking back at him again and smiling crookedly. "Slapping is for chicks," She grinned mockingly.

That was quite enough. "Why you-!" The man unsheathed his sword and held it high over his head, ready to slash down and split her head clean in half. Jax watched calmly. She knew that dreams couldn't hurt her. She would either wake up a split second before her head was cracked open or she would be hit and the dream would roll on regardless.

Dreams were funny like that.

Much to Jax's surprise, her dream did neither end nor continue like that. Instead, rather conveniently, a rumbling voice sounded from above her. All of the men turned their gazes up to a space over Jax's head, including the man that threatened to kill her. Jax instinctively attempted to do the same, but all she got was a smack in the face from the thick wooden mast. Unsure of what else to do with herself, Jax looked forward and waited awkwardly.

"Now, Sheathing," A soft, deep voice said from behind her, and though it lacked the menace in the voice of the man who had tried to kill her, it still sent a shiver shuddering down Jax's spine. "You know it likes its prey whole and fresh. We mustn't harm her, now."

Jax's straightened suddenly, painfully straining against her bonds as she did so. "Pardon?" She demanded. A little voice in her head asked why she was so scared of her own dream, but she didn't quite have the time to satisfy its trivial questions at the moment.

The voice chuckled a very throaty chuckle. "Oh, yes, dear. You really wondered why we hadn't killed you yet?"

"What are you going to do to me?" Jax asked, trying to keep her voice even.

The voice tutted disapprovingly. "Now, now, dear. It's rude to spoil surprises the hosts have set up."

"Parlay!" She blurted suddenly. "I call parlay, you can't hurt me until I'm… satisfied."

The voice sighed daintily and the crew grumbled unhappily at her request. "Very well. How may we satisfy you?"

"I'd really like to be untied, for one thing," She began, nodding her head at the sword still held over the head of the man who stood over her. The man looked up at whoever stood on the platform over Jax's head, and, apparently seeing confirmation, sighed and slashed down, letting the ropes fall away from Jax's body. She stepped forward gratefully and stretched.

"Anything else?" The voice behind her enquired irritably, but still softly.

"I'd like to know who you are, where we are and what is going to happen to me," Jax said firmly and decisively.

"You want to know who I am, eh?" The voice chuckled. She heard wood creaking beneath someone's feet as they moved towards her. She restrained from peeping around the mast to see who it was- she didn't want to seem like an over-eager child- and so waited with feigned coolness.

When the voice spoke again, it was frighteningly close. Behind her to her right. "I am the captain of this here lovely ship," The voice said in its almost creepily calm, soft voice. Jax could hear its owner moving around the mast towards her, and she instinctively turned her head to her left, itching to see the face of the flying ship's captain.

All too quickly, she did.

Jax wasn't sure if she assumed the owner of the voice was a male or female, but she was surprised when a huge hulk of a man walked into her view. His skin was dark and his eyes were never-ending pits of black. His head was shaven and his shoulders were broad and imposing. He had a barrel chest and his arms and legs throbbed with muscles. His face, unlike those of his crew, was untouched by the elements. Despite his obvious higher rank, his clothes were not much better than those of his crew- a dirty, baggy shirt that hung off his hulking frame and torn shorts that dangled just below his huge brown knees. He bowed formally and extended a mocking hand out to Jax. She took it uncertainly and pricked her palm against his razor-sharp fingernails. Her hand jumped back in surprise and the captain stood with a knowing smirk. "While you are on my ship you will refer to me as 'Captain' or 'sir'." He told her softly, but she caught the threatening undertones in his voice.

"I want to know your name," Jax pressed. "You know mine. It's only fair."

The captain sighed. "You may call me Ninth Inch, if you're going to be stubborn."

"Uh… OK." It was an unusual name, but Jax was in no place to poke fun at the big man.

"Are you satisfied now?" Said big man asked idly.

"Not quite," Jax said, trying not to be intimidated. "Where are we? What ship is this?"

"Right now, we're in the sky," Ninth Inch said. His crew chuckled at their captive's stupidity. Jax rolled her eyes.

"I noticed," She snapped drily. "I meant to ask, we were just in London a second ago, and a good way away from the sea. Ships are not supposed to fly, and if the air is your ocean I'd like to know where exactly you're planning to make port." Jax was very sorely tempted to add a pirate-y 'savvy' on the end, but refrained.

"You'll see soon enough," Ninth Inch replied mystically. "The island we plan to make port on has no name that we know of."

"How is this ship flying?" Jax pressed on. "What was that light we passed through?"

"The ship was in the sky when I found it," Ninth Inch explained idly. Apparently it was an old story. "I roped it down and found a few men aboard. We've recruited since then and claimed this flying ship for our own. That light was the second star-"

"To the right?" Jax snorted. "I'm not a child. So I suppose we're on the _Jolly Roger _and now we're headed to Neverland, are we?"

Ninth Inch blinked, surprise. "The _Jolly Roger _was the name the remaining crew told me when I took it," He admitted. "Though I must say I've never heard of Neverland before. How do you know the name of my ship if you do not know the name of its captain?"

"Perhaps your crew forgot to mention it," Jax spat. "But before you took this ship it was captained by the most _evil _pirate to ever sail the sea."

"Oh really?" Ninth Inch was suddenly horribly close to her face, his sharp fingers pricking into her cheeks as he gripped them teasingly. "And who might that be?"

"_Hook_," Jax said meaningfully. The words came off the top of her head from the book she had fallen asleep reading. She and Ninth Inch engaged in a few more seconds of stare-off before he stood and turned to his crew.

"Smee," He said, still keeping his voice even and calm. The crew stood aside and a short, fat man stepped forward shyly.

"Y-yes, cap'n?" The little man- Smee, Jax guessed- stammered fearfully, gripping a floppy red beanie in his hands anxiously.

"Did you know this?" He asked softly.

"Well… Yes, cap'n, but I thoughts that seeing as Hook's long dead now, it didn't matter-"

Ninth Inch turned away from the little man, waving his huge hand over his shoulder carelessly. "It doesn't," He agreed. "I was verifying the child." He turned back to Jax once more. "Anything else?"

"What do you plan to do with me?" It was the question she almost didn't want answered.

Ninth Inch chuckled lowly. "There's a mighty big beastie out on these waters," He said, voice dangerously quiet. "And it follows this ship like a bloodhound. It's hungry, love. So every once in a while, we go and get a little girlie like you to satisfy it's hunger."

"A crocodile, yes?" Jax said fearfully, thinking of the crocodile in the novel who had eaten Hook's hand after it was cut off by…

_Peter Pan!_

Ninth Inch started to turn away. Jax was desperate.

"Wait!" She almost shrieked, and Ninth Inch paused. "I know how to find Pan."

She saw a look of comprehension flit across Smee's face and he looked at Ninth Inch for confirmation. But the big man's broad shoulders just heaved with laughter. "I have enough gold pans for a lifetime, I think you'll find. Are you satisfied now?"

"Not yet," Jax said. "I want one more thing. Once we get down to… wherever we're going, I want you to put me on shore, _unharmed_. Then our Parlay will be completed. Sound good?"

Ninth Inch continued across the deck. "Very well."

He disappeared to his quarter's and activity on the deck resumed as normal. Unsure of what to do with herself, Jax awkwardly moved over to the stern and peered down curiously. The helmsman, who just so happened to be the man who had tried to kill her, glared but ignored her as she stared in mystification at the clouds passing beneath them. She reached out with outstretched fingers and brushed the fluffy, wet substance with her hands. Giggling childishly with delight, she withdrew and watched dreamily.

A silly dream, perhaps, but a rather enjoyable one.

"Excuse me, Miss."

Jax jumped at a voice behind her, but it was only Smee, and he looked harmless enough. Despite her lack of faith in the brutality of such a little man, she did not smile at him nor welcome him, and instead treated him to the same glare she had given the other pirates.

"What do you want?" She snapped, trying to sound as mean as possible.

Smee did not take the hint and stood next to her amiably. "You won't be able to distract the cap'n with talk of Peter Pan, Miss," He told her quietly, eyeing the helmsman cautiously. "No-one's seen him since the crocodile ate him. He has no idea who he is and I doubt he would have any interest in him anyway. And after Hook's performance with the boy…" Smee sighed. "I'd rather not see someone else reduced to something so pathetic again."

Jax was surprised. "If he's not looking for Pan… what's he doing here? There's nothing here for you except… well, Pan."

Smee sighed. "I think the cap'n knows that but disregards it anyway. We don't know where he came from, but he's none too happy to go back. He says he'd prefer to stay here where nothing can hurt him."

Interesting words. Jax would investigate them later. "If you need a sacrifice to keep the crocodile out of your hair, why doesn't he just get someone from the island? Like, one of the natives or something."

"He doesn't know that there's anyone here except us," Smee explained. "Pan has not shown himself since Hook was killed, and everyone else slowly disappeared after that."

"Why haven't you told the captain?" Jax asked, curious despite herself.

Smee shrugged. "Nothing good could come out of it," He sighed. "Not after what happened to Hook." He straightened both his posture and his hat. "Well, I'll be off. Be safe on that island."

Smee started to move away, but Jax called him back. "Smee," She asked softly. "Do you have any name for this place at all?"

Smee smiled with a degree of kindness that surprised Jax. You know, for a pirate. "I still like to call it Neverland, meself. Keep all this talk to yourself now, though. It wouldn't do well for the others to hear too much." Smee winked and Jax winked back before she could stop herself. He was like the father she'd forgotten, the father who had decided he didn't care anymore and left when she was only little.

There was a cry from the crow's nest. "LAND HO!"

Wrapped up in childish curiosity and a false sense of security, Jax threw herself across the deck to the bow where she craned her neck to see the island she had only ever read about. A few seconds later, she saw a mountain rise up through the clouds and she let out a breath she hadn't even been holding… only to be sorely disappointed.

It was nothing like she had imagined. The trees were all dull and grey. Half-hearted waves lapped the grey sand of the beaches with a dull crashing sound. They sky was bleak and bruised, like it was on constant standby for rain. The water was mostly grey, and turned almost completely black in a little lagoon. A shallow, wan river wound its way across the island but was lost from view in the dying rainforest canopy.

Jax remembered two things then: firstly, something that Barrie mentioned in his novel, something about how the island came alive when the legendary Peter Pan had returned. She also remembered what Smee had said, how Pan had never shown his face since Hook's death. It could be linked… But the idea was ridiculous. She stored it away for now, but did not forget about it.

"Admirin' the view?" It was the helmsman, Sheathing. Jax wrinkled her nose unhappily.

"If I was going to be taken to a forsaken island as a sacrifice, I'd at least like the island to be pretty," Jax admitted.

Sheathing chuckled. "I dunno if you've noticed, love," He said mockingly. "But we don't care much for pretty here."

And with that, he tossed Jax onto the ground. She cried out in surprise, and lashed out in rage when she felt him binding her wrists and ankles with ropes. The big man was far too strong for her, however, and over-powered her easily. Satisfied he had done a good job in trussing her up like a common dog, he hauled her to her feet again and shoved her back against the bow, laughing horribly as Nine Inch's hulking frame emerged from his quarters.

"Captain!" Jax yelled. "Tell him to let me go! He's going back on our agreement!"

"No, Miss Jax," Ninth Inch replied quietly, not even turning to face her. "You asked that we return you to the shore unharmed. It would be preferable to feed you to the beast from the ship, but at your request we will take you to shore in a longboat and wait for the thing to find you there. You will return to shore unharmed, just as you asked. It is what happens later that shall harm you, and that is not part of our transaction."

Jax shrieked in fury. "That's hardly fair!" She cried. "You bloody pirates! I-"

With a grunt of annoyance, Sheathing abruptly silenced her with a disgusting, sweaty gag, tied tight around her mouth. She continued to squirm and utter muffled squeals of rage, but the crew laughed and went on, ignoring her. She caught Smee's eye and looked at him pleadingly, but he shook his head and turned away before she could make him feel any guiltier.

As the island of Neverland drew ever closer, an unusual feeling of foreboding rose in Jax's stomach. This dream had just gone horribly wrong…


	3. Safety

Jax was tossed carelessly onto the sand with yet another muffled, infuriated cry. The sand stung at the gash sliced down her calf. She wriggled onto her back and watched the longboat fade into the mist hatefully, as though she could scare them. She had yet to meet anyone who was intimidated by a girl who was tied up helplessly by her wrists and ankles with a gag tied tight around her mouth. As the boat faded away into the depressing fog, Jax's hope faded with it and it was all she could do to wait.

The ship had hit the water eventually, and just before her departure Ninth had stepped up to her and thrown her head back, carving a crude IX in the skin between her collarbones. It was his 'mark', and 'insignia', apparently. Glaring at the big pirate hatefully, Jax had been thrown into a longboat with three other men, one of them being Sheathing (who was taking particular joy in her captivity). The leg of her pyjama pants were torn off from below the knee and a long gash was promptly carved down the length of her left calf and shoved abruptly into the water, to lure the crocodile to the smell of Jax's blood. The sky had steadily turned darker and darker and the fog settled like a thick, cold blanket over them all, soaking Jax's pyjamas through to her skin. Once they hit the grey shores, Sheathing tossed her out carelessly and blew her a mocking kiss as he rowed away.

And now Jax was lying alone on the cold grey sand in the cold grey fog on a cold grey island waiting for something big to come and eat her alive.

Minutes passed, but Jax's heart did not calm down. She was tempted to wait for the crocodile to come and eat her, if only to put an end to this ridiculous yet terrifying dream, but the terror she felt instructed her to act on impulse and free herself before anything bad could happen. Instinct battled and won out, and Jax put all of her energies for the moment into sitting up. She pressed her bleeding leg into the sand in an attempt to stem the blood flow. The smell of blood would still hang in the air prominently for any creature with a sharp nose, but she could deal with that later. For now, she scanned the shore keenly, looking for anything that could cut her bonds free.

It would have been alright if her ankles had just been lashed straight together and her hands bound in front of her, but Sheathing was smarter than that and crossed her ankles over each other and tied her hands behind her back. Seeing as she had a total lack of aerobic or sporting ability, Jax had absolutely no hope of standing up and running/hopping away from her doom.

Her eyes fell on a huge bone washed up on the shore. Promptly flopping back onto her side, she rolled over to it curiously and nudged it with her face. It was a shattered part of a massive spine. Seeing as fish didn't have spines, Jax didn't like to think too hard about what- or who- the spine may have once belonged to, preferring instead to roll over and grapple blindly at the sand until her groping fingers found it. She began sawing away hurriedly, wondering if it was even working at all. Her heart leapt when she heard the little fibres begin to snap, but it wasn't enough. She wondered how long it would take her to cut through it-

A little wave of half-hearted but icy cold water suddenly rose and fell over her. Jax squealed a muffled squeal of surprise and wriggled away from the water line hurriedly, watching in despair as little bits of her blood swirled and were sucked out to sea in the dark water. It only just occurred to Jax that the crocodile could be watching her right then and she wouldn't know. Keeping her gaze fixed on the shoreline, Jax continued sawing away feverishly, supporting the childish hope that it would actually get her somewhere.

And then it did. Jax strained against her bonds as hard as she could and tried to wriggle her hands out, as though she had stretched the ropes somehow. She hadn't, of course, but eventually she strained just hard enough, pulling away from the weak spot created by her improvised spine-saw, and the ropes fell away. She sat up and tore the gag away from her mouth and was just about to untie her feet when she noticed two things:

First was the impossible knot Sheathing had tied around her ankles.

Second was the pair of acid yellow eyes that watched her from the water, a few metres away from the blood trail that lead from the shoreline to a little further up the beach and then back down to the shoreline and now up where Jax was sitting.

Their eyes locked and the seconds seemed to stretch to eternity. Knowing already that she didn't have a chance, Jax slowly scooted up the beach, never breaking eye contact. Perhaps, if she could just get into the jungle behind her…

The crocodile lunged from the water with terrifying speed and agility. Jax screamed and pushed herself backwards in an awkward movement resembling a spring, dragging herself further up the beach on her behind. Her heart thumped harder than it ever had before and her eyes were the size of dinner plates as she stared at the monstrous creature that had just flung itself at her.

It was _huge_, and it was hungry. It followed the trail of her blood like a bloodhound, sniffing her down eagerly. Jax's hands scrambled to find something to throw at it, though she got the feeling that any weapon she would have tried to use would have bounced off its scaly hide harmlessly. There was a low rumbling in its throat and it lunged again. Jax's bloody left leg barely escaped its powerful jaws as they clamped shut. As Jax scampered away, trying to scoot ever closer, she knew that unless she could manipulate the huge thing to somehow cut her ankles free and run for it in the jungle, she would most certainly die. It was a miracle she was still in one piece at all.

The croc lunged towards her again, dragging her out of her self-pity party and once again to this crazy reality. Stretching her ankles outwards as far as they would go, Jax closed her eyes, whispered a very quick prayer and waited until she could feel the crocodile's hot breath against the soles of her feet before yanking them out of harm's way again. Her heart stopped when she felt the rope get caught on something, but she managed to yank it hard enough. She wasn't fast enough, though. She felt a painful stab in her foot and cried out, but bit her tongue. If she didn't get a move on, her whole body would feel like that soon enough.

Cracking her eyes open, Jax was actually surprised when she saw her feet still attached to her ankles. She was even more surprised so see that her crazy plan had actually worked and the ropes were a tangled mess around her free ankles. Of course, there was also blood spurting from a hole in her foot and she could see some of that blood spattered across the canines of a grinning crocodile. Jax could almost hear what it was trying to say: _You taste yummy. I want more of you._

"You wish," Jax growled, leaping to her feet and taking off into the jungle. Pain shot up her calf and her foot throbbed with every movement, but it didn't matter because she couldn't move very far. The jungle was a tangle of vines and trees and roots and bushes, and Jax's progress was slow. Her breath came in feverish gasps as she tried to leap over the overgrown, spiky branches that protruded from every direction. She batted past them, feeling little thorns imbed themselves into her skin as she passed. Fear threatened to burst her heart because she knew that the crocodile could grab her at this distance and drag her down the beach and into the water and then into its stomach. The terror spurred her on and she pushed harder, panting raggedly with fear and effort. She didn't dare to turn around…

But then a few long minutes passed and Jax was still alive. She paused cautiously and turned. The crocodile was still on the beach, watching her with its awful yellow eyes. It looked like it was smiling. Jax was barely beyond the barrier of the jungle from the beach and she knew that a beast of that size could crash through it easily, but for some reason it didn't. Jax's eyes followed the heavy blood trail that followed her progress up the beach and into the wild jungle and finally understood.

This crocodile was no beast. It had a mind. It was intelligent. And it was competitive. It wanted something harder than this. Jax could tell that the croc had had a taste of her and wanted more of her dearly, and at a guess she would say that it was intrigued by actually having an opponent that had survival instincts that forced it to preserve itself. With a creepy crocodile grin, it clambered back down the beach and slid into the water. Jax shuddered and turned away, battling her way deeper into the jungle. Her foot and leg ached as the blood continued to pour from her wounds until finally she cleared away a little spot on the jungle floor. Her foot, she decided, was the priority, and tore the leg of her pyjama pants away from her right leg. She tore it up into a few more strips, wrapping about three around her foot and the rest up the length of her leg. The pain didn't disappear, but she pretended that she felt better and continued on her impossible quest.

She must have torn her way through the jungle for hours before she finally gave up and sat down, helpless. She looked around her in desperation, but recognized nothing. She couldn't remember what way she had come, or even if she had just been going around in circles. The deadened, gray canopy soared over her head and she couldn't tell if it was day or night. A few icy raindrops fell through the thick canopy and dropped onto her face, eventually mixing with her salty tears. She couldn't remember the last time she had cried, and yet now here she was, numb with cold, her left leg completely numb, spattered in blood, completely lost. She couldn't go back to the beach- the crocodile would be waiting, and if the pirates saw her again they would certainly take no chances with her.

_Pirates…_

That was when Jax remembered. If there was a Smee, if there was a _Jolly Roger_, if there was a ridiculously huge, murderous crocodile… there _had _to be a Peter Pan. A flying boy who would take her into his home of little orphan boys and teach her how to fly. She had to find him if she had any hope of surviving on his island.

She stood again and sniffed, wiping her dirty tears away on the heel of her equally dirty palm. She opened her mouth to bellow out to the flying boy, call his name out-

"Girl," A weary voice said from above her. "Why are you crying?"

Jax shrieked and whirled, falling back down again. Her leg throbbed in pain as she looked around wildly to see who had spoken. "Who's there?" She demanded, voice trembling.

One of the bushes a little way above her rustled and a pair of dirty bare feet protruded. "Me."

Jax was still cautious. "Who's me?"

The dirty little feet disappeared and a dirty little face appeared in their place. It was a boy, Jax observed. His face was dirty but beneath the grime his skin looked grey and colourless, like the island. His sandy hair fell about his face and was as dirty as his face and feet, but was strangely monochrome. His eyes were big and weary and a salty, icy blue. He was only a child, about the same age as Jax, but he looked like he had seen too much sorrow and wanted it all to end. "I am me," The boy replied simply. Even his voice sounded tired.

Jax straightened and awkwardly offered a scratched hand. "Well, my name's Jax. What is your name?"

The boy crept a little further forward and extended a dirty hand cautiously. "Peter," He answered uncertainly.

Jax felt her heart leap and bounded forward, shaking his hand enthusiastically. "Oh, thank _God _I found you. Those bloody pirates left me for dead to that massive croc and I can hardly feel my left leg (the crocodile bit it, you see) and I was just thinking how my only way out of here is to fly and-"

Peter blinked slowly. "What pirates?" He asked curiously. "I killed the only pirate on this island. That crocodile should be satisfied."

Jax should have sensed that there was something wrong right there, but she blundered on regardless. "Oh, yes, well, some of Hook's crew survived and another pirate took the ship for his own and the crocodile is still chasing the ship for some reason so they need a sacrifice which is why I ended up here and I only just got away from the crocodile and I've been running through the jungle for _hours _before I found you-"

"And what do you plan to do now?" Peter asked suddenly, almost patronizingly. Jax paused, surprised.

"Pardon?" His tone took her more off-guard than anything.

Peter barked a harsh, mirthless laugh that made Jax flinch. "You escaped the bloodthirsty pirates!" He cried. "You survived a hungry crocodile and you found the boy who will never grow up. Pray tell, what do you plan to do next?"

Jax paused. "Well, um, actually I was sort of hoping that you could fly me out of here before they found me out here alive. I don't think they'd like that. The captain doesn't look like someone who takes defeat very easily." Jax pulled her shirt down just enough to show her dirty, bloodied collarbones and the Roman numeral etched between them. "He marks all of his victims, I think, so he'll know it's me if he finds me."

Peter's eyes suddenly clouded with sadness. "Leave," he said suddenly, retreating back into the leaves. "Go away. Find your own tree."

He disappeared among the leaves, leaving a stunned Jax to stand alone in the thorny jungle. She snapped herself out of it and marched over to the tree unhappily, tugging on the leaves demandingly. "Hey! Who do you think you are to shut out a helpless young woman? Did you not _notice _I'm covered in blood?"

"Did you not notice I don't want to help you?" Peter shot back, voice muffled.

"And why is that?" Jax demanded unhappily. Her leg was throbbing more noticeably now.

Peter's head reappeared again. "Well, for one thing, I can't fly you anywhere," He replied sharply. It was the first emotion she'd heard in his voice since speaking to him. "For another thing, you don't seem like the sort of person who deserves help."

"Of course you can fly me home!" Jax snorted in disbelief. "You flew the Darling children here and back, didn't you? It's not even that hard, you do it all the time." She paused, distant alarm bells finally beginning to go off in her head. "Right?"

Peter was sad and empty again. "I could fly once," He said quietly. "And I did fly to London and back with Wendy and the others. But not since then. I'm not flying anyone anywhere, least of all myself."

Jax finally felt sorry for him and stepped towards him again, outstretching a hand. "Why not?" She asked softly. "What happened?"

Peter disappeared back into his bush with a huff. "I'd rather not talk about it," He replied unhappily.

Jax didn't have the energy to be angry at him. "Well, can you at least take me back to your hideout or something? I need bandages, and clean water, and somewhere to sit down." No reply. "Please?"

A few more seconds dragged on and nothing happened. Jax had just about given up when his reluctant head reappeared again, peering over the leaves shyly. "You won't tell anyone where it is?" He demanded suspiciously, and Jax almost smiled. _This _was more like the Peter Pan she had read about in books.

"Cross my heart," Jax swore, brushing her finger over her heart to prove her point. Her fingertip brushed the open scar Ninth had left on her skin and it stung briefly.

Peter reluctantly emerged from the leaves and dropped to the ground. "I don't normally let girls into the hideout," He explained, still with an air of suspicion. "So you can't betray my trust, OK?"

Jax was too tired to smile. "I won't. Could you give me a hand…? I can't walk so well on my left leg."

And so, arm slung over Peter's dirty shoulders, Jax let him help her hobble off into the dark jungle, away from sacrificial pirates and hungry crocodiles and towards what was hopefully safety, if only for a little while.


	4. A History Lesson Of Sorts

By the time Peter had finally hauled her up to the hideout, Jax was half asleep. She was, however, promptly jerked awake by a blast of welcome warm air in her face. Blinking fast to adjust her eyes to a sudden dim but warm light, taking in her surroundings carefully.

It was an underground hollow. There were no windows and the round walls were formed by concave dirt walls and supported by huge sprawling tree roots that wormed across the floor. Parts of their trunks were visible through the dirt walls, soaring upwards towards the ceiling. Everything in the room was made of wood or dirt or covered with fur or something natural: nothing was man-made. A wooden throne jutted out from one of the tree trunks and seemed to have been formed by the tree roots itself. It was covered by a huge furry brown coat that looked unlike any other coats Jax had seen back at home. There were beds of similar make scattered around in no particular order and furry drapes and carpets covered the dirt floor at random intervals. It was a small room, but it was packed with far too many things for Jax to take in at once.

"Where is everyone?" She asked Peter, the first thing she had said since meeting him in the jungle. He didn't reply for a moment as he helped her settle into the biggest bed, covered by the biggest, furriest blanket of all of the many blankets in the little room.

"They left," He said shortly, turning his back to her. Jax sensed it was a tender subject, but had no particular intention of abandoning it entirely. She moved on for now.

"Do you have any clean water?" She asked, unwinding her crude bandages. "I need to wash my leg. I'll need a clean cloth, too, if you have it."

Peter seemed to disappear for a moment, then reappeared with a little rough-cut wooden bowl of water. Jax took it gratefully and poured a little down the side of her calf, using the leathery side of a smaller hide Peter had given her to clean it off. She soaked her foot and cleaned it carefully, clenching her jaw when she pressed a little too hard a little too close to the hole in her foot. She couldn't see right through it (thankfully), but it was a rather deep hole. She needed professional help but it looked like the best she'd get at the moment was Peter Pan, the flying boy who wasn't supposed to exist outside storybooks.

Jax watched him from the corner of her eye, pretending to clean her foot again. His filthy back was facing her and he didn't seem to be doing anything really productive other than pretending to do something productive. He was dressed in a complicated garb made entirely of leaves. Everything about him was dirty; Jax wondered when his last shower had been. He was much quieter than books and movies portrayed him to be, but then Jax supposed that movies and books never really properly caught the grandeur of real life.

Jax caught herself suddenly and shook her head, tearing her gaze away from Peter. What was she saying? This wasn't real life. Just a silly dream, that was all. She had stayed up rather late to read that book and now it was living itself out in her mind. There was no reason for her to take this too seriously.

Still… Jax hadn't had a good dream like this in a while. Might as well make the most of it while she could, she figured.

"Where is everyone?" She asked again, prepared for rejection.

"They left," Peter repeated sharply. "I told you."

Jax nodded. She hadn't quite finished the book yet, but she had gathered enough to know that the Darling children had gone home with the Lost Boys. "Aren't there any new Lost Boys… Girls… People?"

Peter shrugged, still not facing his new wounded companion. "I don't know. I never went to look for them."

Jax's delicate eyebrows furrowed. "I thought they came straight to Neverland," She said contemplatively.

Peter shrugged again. "I don't know," He said carelessly.

"Why didn't you go looking?"

"Oh, I don't know," Peter snapped, raising his voice a little, getting angry. "Girls talk too much."

"Yes, that we do," Jax agreed absently. "What happened here? What happened to the island?"

Peter calmed down again and settled into the throne cross-legged, fiddling with his dirty feet absently. "I don't know," He admitted softly. "Everything just sort of faded away after… after…" He clenched his jaw like he was trying not to cry and Jax proceeded carefully.

"What happened to you?" She asked softly, setting her water and cloth down carefully. Peter was silent for a few moments more, and when he spoke again his voice was quiet.

"Wendy and all the others left," He began softly. "Hook was dead. Things became… boring."

Jax remembered something from when she had impatiently skipped ahead in her reading. "But you saw Wendy for a week every year," She pointed out. "And you told her about all your adventures."

"Oh, none of that was _real_," Peter snapped suddenly. "I was only showing off. After I killed Hook there was no more fun for me, and all the Lost Boys were out somewhere _growing up_." He said the last part with just a little more than a hint of disdain. "And then Wendy grew up too," He added softly, eyes riddled with pain. "They all left me behind. And one day when I made myself get up and go back to London, they told me Wendy was gone. Gone where? They wouldn't tell me. I _hate _grown ups." He cried a little, but wiped away his tears quickly. He would not see the dark-haired stranger see him cry.

"Oh, Peter," Jax breathed, suddenly overwhelmed by emotion for the poor boy. He was caught somewhere between childhood and adolescence, totally unsure of himself, an emotional wreck. It was no wonder he was so quiet. He had lost _everything._ Jax spoke before she could stop herself or consider the consequences: "What happened between you and Wendy happened a very long time ago. When they say Wendy's gone… they mean she's dead. They all are. I'm sorry."

If Peter's eyes could become any more broken, they immediately did. He did not cry, but he seemed to just deflate. Jax instantly realized what she had said and covered her mouth in horror, but it was too late. She cautiously extended a trembling hand to comfort him, but caught herself midway.

"What am I doing?" She demanded out loud, drawing her hand back and hitting herself on the head with it. "This is ridiculous. You're not _real_."

Peter blinked, surprised by the lack of empathy he received from the stranger who had just crushed him. "Pardon?"

"This!" Jax waved her arms exaggeratedly at the room around her. "This is all just a dream. It's not actually real."

"If this is a dream," Peter asked softly, eyes averted. "Does that make me a dream too?"

Jax nodded, patting Peter's shoulder without any degree of empathy or pity whatsoever. "'Fraid so," She said.

Peter looked away as though he were ashamed of himself. A little part of Jax wondered if she was being too harsh, but she brushed it away quickly. It was a dream. Just a dream. Peter was not real. Neverland was not real. The pirates were not real. Jax's wounds were not real.

_Though they are rather life-like… _Jax cast her left leg an uneasy glance before tearing her eyes away. She couldn't think like that. Not if she wanted to wake up.

"So, um, anyways," Jax awkwardly made an attempt at conversation. "What happened after the boys left?"

Peter shrugged. He seemed to have let the matter of Jax's doubt and his dearest friends' deaths for now, but Jax made a mental note not to bring it up again. "I never really noticed until today," He admitted.

"What, you just sat up in the jungle for the odd century or so and never noticed anything?" Jax demanded in disbelief.

Peter shrugged again. "We don't really have time here," He said. "There are no minutes to the hours to the days to the weeks to the months to the years. After Tink's light went out-"

Jax was horrified. "Tink died too?" She demanded.

Peter's eyes became sorrowful again. "Fairies only live for so long," He said softly. "More and more children are deciding they don't believe in fairies these days. She got unlucky."

Now Jax had to feel a pang of sorrow for him. The world's most famous fairy was probably Peter's closest friend. He didn't even have that anymore. Jax's eyes wandered to a little hollow in one of the walls. A limp, slightly moth-eaten curtain hung over it. No glow radiated from within. "You were saying?" She asked absently, reluctantly taking her eyes away from what used to be Tink's little apartment space in a room full of boys.

"After Tink's light went out," Peter tried again, unable to admit that she was dead, "I sat in the jungle waiting for someone to come back. I don't know how long I stayed up there, but you were the first person I saw since then."

"You never tried to fly?" Jax pressed. Peter shook his head. "Was Neverland always like this?" She continued, eager to figure out whatever had happened here.

Peter shook his head again. "I never noticed until today, but it used to be greener. Now it's just… dead. Everything is."

Jax nodded and stored the information away in a spare spot in her brain. "Um, Peter," She asked shyly. "Would you mind showing me how you fly?"

Suddenly he turned away, evidently embarrassed. "I can't," He mumbled ashamedly. "I haven't been able to fly for a long time."

Jax nodded again. She had guessed that, judging from what he had told her in the jungle. It would also explain a few other hypothesis she had formed in her mind at that moment. "And why is that?"

Peter was irritated again. "Why does it matter to you? I don't know any of the answers to any of your stupid questions!"

"But I think I do," Jax replied calmly. Peter snapped to attention, watching her eagerly. All he wanted was answers to why things had gone so horribly wrong. "But I need to sleep on it."

And with that, Jax promptly fell down and rolled over on the big bed. Peter watched her horizontal form in shocked silence, unable to believe that a complete stranger whose life he had saved and who would be the foundation upon which they would build the most profound conversation he had had with anyone in a long would just go to sleep on the verge of telling him what was wrong with him. She had even dared to fall asleep in his bed! With a snort of half-hearted contempt, Peter stormed off and flung himself into a hammock, rolling over with a mind full of questions.

That night, Peter went to sleep with a funny feeling in his chest. He was no happier than he had been this morning, but he felt different.

_He had a friend again._


	5. Just Peter

When Jax rolled over, she had three reasons for doing so.

The first was that she was tired. Exhausted. Being kidnapped and abused and attacked and having to force her way through unforgiving jungle had taken its toll on her and even though the blanket on the big bed was scratchy, Jax loved it. She wanted nothing more than to just sink into the fur and sleep there as long as her body clock would allow.

The other two reasons, on the other hand, she hadn't been completely honest to Peter about.

The second reason was that she wanted to think. The first and most obvious hypothesis that had leapt to her brain was that Peter was just upset. One of the characteristics of a child, Jax had noted, was that they never remembered anything. Children had not a care in the world and didn't hold onto memories of yesterday, just living life in the moment. Adults strived to remember, it was just what they did. Sir Barrie had very clearly said in his book that Peter forgot many things often, and also that children were careless and heartless and innocent, or something like that. It was one of the essences that Peter needed to never grow up, but the way Jax saw it Wendy and the others had had such a big impact on his life that he had struggled to move on and tried to re-create what it had been like while they were with him in Neverland. When he couldn't, he probably just sank into some pit of depression that took away all the happy thoughts that once made him fly. He needed happy thoughts to make him fly, Jax knew, and Peter Pan had been so careless once that not a single sad thought had ever had much purpose in his mind, leaving room only for happy ones. Now the tables had turned and it was the opposite.

The third reason was that Jax simply wanted to wake up. It had been her experience that falling asleep in a dream generally leads to waking up in the real world. It had been the most exciting thing that had ever happened to Jax, and probably the most exciting thing that ever would happen to her, but she didn't want any of it. As her eyes slid shut, she dreamt of waking up underneath her blankets with a dead torch in one hand and a book in the other, with Harriet about to come in and open the curtains and give her a breakfast of croissants with butter and honey and there would be hot chocolate and-

A pair of big, dusky eyes, apparently.

Jax sat up groggily, blinking in confusion at the dirty boy who crouched at her bedside. "Who the hell are you?" She yawned, scratching her messy head of hair as she spoke.

"Did you figure it out?" The boy asked her eagerly, disregarding her last question.

"What quest- oh." Jax's remembrance was accompanied by a flare of pain shooting up her leg. She sat up in bed and rubbed her face, her mind whirring frantically. Perhaps it wasn't a dream? Jax didn't want to think about it and brushed away the thoughts shakily. She rarely remembered the exact happenings of dreams when she woke up, so she supposed this must be what it was like to live in the moment in a dream. So Jax decided instead to address her empty stomach.

"Where's breakfast?" She yawned, stretching her arms as far as they would go.

Peter stepped aside and gestured to a little wooden table on the other side of the room, on which lay a few grey coconuts and some unhealthy-looking bananas. Peter slung Jax's arm over his shoulders and helped her limp over to a stump that served as a chair, at which point Jax promptly began stuffing her face with the tropical food gone wrong. Both the coconuts and the bananas were oddly tasteless, though Jax hardly expected any different, given the island's current state.

Peter watched her unwaveringly as she ate. "So did you figure it out?" He asked again.

Jax blinked blankly for a second, then remembered again. "Oh, yeah. The way I see it, you're just depressed." Peter looked at her in utter incomprehension. Jax rolled her eyes. "Sad," She explained. Peter nodded in understanding and gestured for her to continue. "Children tend to be really absent-minded, they forget everything. That used to be you, Peter. You were meant to forever be a child, so you forgot everything you were ever told, you got bored easily, blah blah blah. You lived a simple life and that was OK because you were always supposed to be a child. You never want to grow up, do you?"

Peter shook his head defiantly. "Never," He confirmed.

"Too bad, you already have," Jax shrugged carelessly, cruelly blunt to her 'dream phantom'.

Peter leapt to his feet and hit his head on a low-hanging root, causing him to sit right back down again. "What?" He demanded, horrified.

Jax gestured to the branch. "There, you see. You're growing taller. You're growing up, Peter."

Peter leaned forward, eyes glistening imploringly. "How do I stop it?" He asked pleadingly.

Jax edged away from him nervously. "I'm getting to that, calm your farm," She scolded half-heartedly. "If kids don't remember anything, then obviously adults do. I think your childishness lead you to remember nothing until Wendy and the others came along. I think Wendy had such a big impact on your life and you had such an amazing adventure with her that after she left you alone, and after Tink died, you were so upset and lonely you tried to remember what it was like when she was here and in striving to remember you also grew up."

"How do I stop it?" Peter demanded. Jax cringed when she saw true terror in his eyes.

"You have to forget about them," Jax said simply. "You need to move on. At the risk of sounding melodramatic, the memories of the past have made you so depressed that you can't think of any happy thoughts to make you fly. If you are growing up and if you can't fly, you're not Peter Pan, therefore Peter Pan is not here, so the island has no real reason to be 'alive', if you get what I mean."

"If I'm not Peter Pan," Peter asked quietly. "Who am I?"

"Just Peter," Jax said decisively. "But you can be Peter Pan again if you forget about the others and move on."

Peter was appalled. "You expect me to just forget?" He demanded, disgusted.

"And that, my friend, is why you are so grown up," Jax said, tapping her temple knowingly.

Peter folded his arms and looked away. He was having none of it. "If I can't forget," He said slowly. "What if I just learn how to fly again? Will that bring the island back?"

"Well, to fly you need two things," Jax explained, counting them off on her fingers. "The first is a happy thought, which you don't seem to have many of due to your ordeal with the Darling children."

"I'm perfectly capable of a happy thought," Peter sniffed, but Jax ignored him.

"The second is a fairy, or fairy dust at the very least," Jax continued. "Which we don't have either."

Peter looked at her suspiciously. "How come you know so much about all this?"

Jax grinned and tapped her temple again. "I know everything."

Peter slowly straightened and his eyes twinkled as he leaned closer to Jax. "So you know how to fly, yes?"

Jax shuffled nervously across her stump. "Well, I've read a fair bit about it-"

"But you know the basic fundamentals, right?" Peter pressed.

"Well, I suppose…"

"Then you can teach me!" Peter crowed, leaping to his feet and hitting his head on the root again.

Jax would've laughed if she wasn't so shocked. "Are you _serious_?" She demanded in disbelief. Peter grinned and nodded once. "I can't teach you! I've never… I mean, I can't just…" Jax couldn't find the words.

"You said you know everything, right?" Peter half-pouted beggingly.

Jax made a face, regretting her boastful words. "Well, yes, but knowing isn't the same as doing!"

"Now you're not making any sense at all," Peter pointed out.

"Neither is this!" Jax cried in exasperation. "I shouldn't be teaching _anyone _how to fly! People aren't supposed to fly. This is ridiculous!"

She saw a flash of pain in Peter's eyes again and pretended she hadn't noticed it. "Well, if this is a dream, it shouldn't matter anyway," He said quietly.

"I suppose so," Jax said grudgingly. "But still, I've certainly read about flying but I've never actually done it myself! I can't teach you if I don't know what I'm teaching about."

"You said it yourself, it's reasonably simple," Peter pushed. "You only need two things, right? Happy thoughts and pixie dust. We should be able to find both of those if we just go out and have a look around."

"'Have a look around'?" Jax repeated with a raised eyebrow. "I thought this island was infested with fairies. It should be easy."

Peter shook his head. "They all disappeared not long after Tink," He explained. "I haven't seen a fairy in a long time."

"Of course they disappeared," Jax growled under her breath. "Just make my job that little bit harder."

Peter perked up. "So you'll do it?"

Jax tried not to smile as she shrugged bashfully. "Yeah, why not."

Peter crowed triumphantly, but it wasn't quite like the crow Jax had imagined. It was broken and off-key. In all honesty, Jax didn't like it, but she said nothing. "Brilliant! So where do we start?"

"Well, finding a fairy could take God knows how long, so I guess we could start with a happy memory," Jax said thoughtfully. "Are your memories currently happy or do they make your stomach feel funny?"

"The second one," Peter mumbled ashamedly. Jax nodded.

"Thought so. I guess we could make a happy memory…" She trailed off, considering it.

Peter was all ears. "How do we do that?" He asked, astonished.

"Uh… well, you know, you… You go out with some friends and you muck around and you have fun and it's nice. I guess I never really thought about it."

Peter looked away sadly. "I don't have any friends on this island," He said quietly.

Jax smacked her lips and thumped his shoulder awkwardly. "Yeah, well, looks like you're stuck with me. What was your favourite thing to do with the Boys on the island when they were here?"

"Well, I used to talk to the mermaids a lot-"

"Brilliant!" Jax stumbled to her feet and made her way to where she was pretty sure Peter lead her down the night before. "That's a great start."

She turned when Peter did not follow, and he shook his head. "The mermaids aren't like they used to be," He explained. "More fish than human. More shark than anything, actually."

Jax rolled her eyes in exasperation and sat down again. "Oh-kaay then, what else?"

"Taunting the pirates would be fun," He suggested hopefully, but Jax shook her head firmly.

"I've been on that ship. The new captain is no Hook. If you can't fly, you don't stand a chance," Jax told him grimly. "Think of that as a reward if we figure out how to get you in the air again."

Peter nodded grudgingly. "Fine then. What else should we do?"

Jax shrugged. "I guess we could just explore the island or something. Unless you have a better idea," She added.

Peter did not have any better ideas, so he agreed wholeheartedly to his new teacher's plans and with precautionary knives in hand they set off into the jungle to have some 'fun'.


	6. Mister Smee's Discovery

A/N: Just because I forgot to mention before, I don't own Peter Pan XD

The atmosphere aboard the Jolly Roger was tense. Mere hours after the dark-haired girl had been tossed on shore to be devoured by the crocodile, the massive beast was seen lurking around the ship, its narrow yellow eyes drifting about the water as it circled again… and again… and again. No-one wanted to be the one to tell the captain in case he read the news as proof the girl had escaped and tossed one of the men- probably the bearer of the news- overboard to satisfy the thing's hunger.

It would've been fine if she hadn't demanded Parlay. The men and women and children they gathered for sacrifice were normally too entranced by the flying ship to consider their futures before they were tossed overboard, or sometimes the pirates were lucky enough to pick up a heavy sleeper. Either way, the beast was always waiting when they touched down in the water and it got its feed right away with the captain supervising the meal at the helm. But the girl had been smart enough to call Parlay, but just dumb enough to leave a loophole. Her death, too, would have been supervised from the dory, but it was misty and the captain didn't want to risk any of the boats being overturned by the monstrous thing. Besides, as he had so politely pointed out: the lady needed her privacy. Sheathing looked a little put-out to be missing out on the messy devouring of the girl he had already taken such a hating to but orders were orders. The girl had been dropped off at shore, unharmed, just as she had asked. As they sailed off into the mist, they heard no screaming, but there were no particular signs of any escape whatsoever. Besides, if she somehow managed to free herself from the ropes, there was no way she would be able to navigate that jungle before the croc smashed through it all and dragged her back to the beach again. The beast probably swallowed her hole, or her screams were muffled by the gag. It wouldn't be surprising if she had been too proud to scream; it wouldn't be new, though, either. They often had victims who boasted of their bravery, but usually caved in right at the brink of death, cowering and crying and begging for their lives before they were brutally pushed off the plank. On the odd occasion they'd snag themselves a martyr who would watch the captain levelly as he was slowly backed down the length of the plank, telling him that they hoped he enjoyed Hell or something before bravely leaping off the plank, plunging to their own death. They had no fear, they claimed, for God was with them.

Smee hoped that God was with that girl.

Red beanie held in his hands like a horribly mangled snake, Smee looked at the island with a rapidly fading sense of hope. He had liked that girl. Truth be told, he ended up 'liking' most of the children unfortunate enough to get themselves landed on the terrible ship. Smee was far too soft to be a pirate, he knew, but he could hardly be anything else. The redskins, he knew, would hunt him down without waiting for explanations. He feared the mermaids greatly, having heard his fair share of stories from the few survivors who had been dumb enough to venture into the black lagoon. And he knew that he could not join Peter Pan, if only to respect his former captain's hate of the boy.

If the boy was even alive, of course. Smee had opted not to tell his new captain of the flying boy for two reasons: the first being that he had very little evidence to back himself up, given the current state of the island, the second being that if Ninth was killed in any sort of quest for vengeance against Pan (the boy just tended to spark hate in the hearts of most grown-up men), Smee would be in charge, which probably meant killing people. He wouldn't like to do that, no sir. Therefore, it was better to stay quiet and perhaps wait until they sailed nicer waters. The island had become much too grey and cold for Smee's liking. If Pan was dead, Smee would miss him regardless of whether Hook liked him or not. Having a cocky flying boy meant having a sun and good bananas, not like the half-hearted ones the crew was forced to dine on nowadays. Smee reckoned they probably would have sailed back to London or somewhere along those seas by now if not for the captain's strange reluctance to fly 'home'. No-one questioned his uncharacteristically sharp manner when it came to suggestions of flying 'home', but that didn't mean questions weren't speculated about. Smee had heard many things, from 'he doesn't know how to get back' to 'there is a herd of wildebeest in his sitting room and he doesn't want to be home to clean up their mess' and had half a mind to ask the captain himself. The words- along with many others- tended to shrivel and die in his throat when he set eyes on the huge, commanding hulk of a captain. Ever since the mysterious man had appeared on the island, the Jolly Roger had gone from a ship of bustling activity to a vessel whose crew was stilled by fear, awaiting orders simply because orders were the only things they had to do nowadays.

Smee jumped when he heard the feared, soft voice rumble behind him. "Mister Smee."

He whirled on his heel, jamming his beanie onto his head once more and straightening in a salute. The crew turned to stare at him, and for a few moments he was hopelessly confused. Then his eyes found the open door to the captain's quarters. Voice trembling, he called back, "Y-y-yes, c-cap'n?"

"If you please."

With a shaky nod, Smee tried to march with some sort of dignity into the dark cabin. A few lonely lamps flickered from the ceiling, barely illuminating the desk that was littered with all of Hook's old things. Ninth had neglected to clean out the captain's quarters when he took the ship for his own, though Smee doubted he would have much of his own possessions to decorate the room with. As Smee presented himself from the other side of the desk, he noticed a small leather-bound book that sat perfectly in the palm of the big man. He craned his neck to read the words but retracted it quickly when the captain looked up.

"At ease, Mister Smee," He sighed. For a moment Smee was confused; then he realized he was still poised to salute. He hastily lowered it and coughed awkwardly.

"You wanted to see me, cap'n?" Smee tried to sound confident, and failed horribly.

Ninth sighed heavily and returned to his book. "Say, Mister Smee."

"Mister Smee," Smee repeated obediently, eager to please his captain. Ninth rolled his big dark eyes and shook his head in frustration.

"Not literally, Mister Smee. Sit."

Flushing at embarrassment at the realization of his foolishness, Smee hastily threw himself down upon an antique-looking armchair. It creaked under his weight and he disguised the sound with a cough, silently praying he wouldn't break it.

Ninth sighed his famous heavy sigh, a sigh that gave Smee that he was simply made for the theatre. "When we snatched that wretched girl from her bed Starkey saw something of particular interest to him and gave it to me."

Ninth clapped the little book shut and slid it over to Smee silently. First Mate Smee was a man who prided himself in his ability to both read and write, but the way he read out the title of the book Ninth showed him would have convinced anyone that he was void of either of these talents.

"P-P-P-P-Pet-ter P-P-Pa-Pan?" He gasped in amazement. Ninth delicately laid three dark fingers over the cover, dragging it back across the desk towards him.

"Peter Pan indeed," He agreed calmly, opening it again and continuing with his reading. "I think you'll find it tells a rather fascinating tale of a boy who refused to grow up and lived on a beautiful tropical island called Neverland, run by Indians and mermaids and a foolish one-handed pirate who captained a ship called the Jolly Roger. Sound familiar, Mister Smee?"

Smee was uncertain how to answer. "Y-yes, captain," He stammered, still shocked by the textual recount of this crazy island he sailed every day.

"You are in it too, Smee," Ninth continued indifferently. Smee sat forward eagerly.

"Really?"

Ninth chuckled and set the book down. "Oh, yes. A blundering, pitiful First Mate, much as you are now."

Smee sat back in his chair, disheartened by the unkind words of this novelist, whoever he was. "Oh."

"Oh?" Ninth repeated, one dark eyebrow raised threateningly.

"Captain," Smee added hastily. "Em, if I might ask, why did you want to discuss this with me? Sir."

Ninth sighed and laid back in his chair. It, too, creaked a little as he did so. "During her brief time aboard, the girl did mention a Hook, as I'm sure you remember," He began. "You confirmed knowledge of this Hook, did you not?"

Smee nodded quickly, then wondered if that was the right course of action. "Yes, sir. I did know Hook. I did sail with him once, as I'm sure you remember." Smee gestured to the book awkwardly.

"The girl," Ninth continued, almost oblivious to his First Mate's answer. "Also mentioned a Pan. At the time, I had believed she was speaking of a gold pan. I ignored her, for I have all the gold I could need. Now, however, Mister Smee," And with this he tapped the cover of the book and smiled the smile of a panther about to attack its prey. "I think a little differently. This book was on the desk of the girl we kidnapped, and I have many reasons to believe it tells the true story of what happened before my presence on this island. Therefore, I also wholeheartedly believe in the existence of this flying boy called Peter Pan and his magical pixie."

"That's all very good, sir." Smee didn't really know what to do.

"Why would you not tell me of the presence of a boy whose pet pixie has the power to give others the ability of flight on this island?" Ninth asked softly, dangerously. Smee began to quake with fear.

"W-w-well you s-see, cap'n, what with all the trouble it brought H-hook in the end, I didn't think it was worth it-"

Ninth's expression did not soften. "You kept it secret to protect the life of your captain?"

Smee nodded eagerly. "Yes sir."

"Then I shall forgive you this once," Ninth declared. "Do not fail me again, Mister Smee."

Smee sat bolt upright and saluted once more. "I won't, sir!" He didn't want to think of what dastardly, unpleasant ways this man would have up his sleeve in terms of how to kill those who failed him.

"Good, good." Ninth dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Go ready the longboats."

Smee leapt to his feet and scrambled for the door, but paused in the doorway. "Ready them for what, sir?"

Ninth smiled wickedly at his book. "Did you ever wonder, Mister Smee, why my vessel can fly and yet I cannot?"

Smee didn't like the way his captain said 'I' or 'my' instead of 'we' or 'us', but he held his tongue. "I… suppose so?"

With the speed of a cheetah, Ninth whipped a knife from his belt and imbedded it in the cover of his book, right between the words 'Peter' and 'Pan'. "I will find the boy," He said softly. "I will make the boy teach me how to fly, and I will kill the boy."

Smee didn't like the sound of that, but nodded as if he did. "Wonderful plan, sir. I'll ready the longboats."

Ninth ignored him and studied his dark reflection in the blade of the knife. As the door swung shut, an evil smile pulled the corners of his mouth upwards.

_He would make them pay._


	7. Encounter

_Some bloody lot of fun _this_ is._

As Jaw sawed her way through the yet another reluctant vine with the makeshift bone knife Peter had given her before they left the safe comfort of the hideout, she cursed three things: the first was her leg and the throbbing pain it brought every few seconds. The second was the thick jungle she and Peter had so naively walked into under the illusion it would just let them pass through. The third was the unhelpful boy standing behind her.

Jax had, at first, offered for Peter to go first, recalling the apparent ease with which he slid through the jungle the previous night when he had taken Jax to the hideout. She had barely finished her sentence when Peter had just pointed out that he had previously cut a path through the jungle from his tree to the hideout in case of emergency. The rest of the jungle was hopelessly overgrown, and ironically enough the only way it seemed possible to get anywhere was to fly. Jax could not see the sun through the thick interlocking canopy over her head and apparently the only other way to find time on the island was to hang around the crocodile until the clock in its stomach struck, and if Jax's failure to notice the huge thing when it had been watching her on the beach taught her anything it was that the clock was probably dead by now. Nonetheless, Jax knew that they had to have been moving (or, in the very least, trying to move) for at least an hour and a half and although the thick jungle blocked her view of the reassuring circle of trees over the hideout Jax knew that they had barely moved twenty yards away from their starting point. It was hopeless.

"We don't have to do this," Peter said quietly from behind her. "Why don't we just go back to the hideout?"

"Because, Peter," Jax sighed through gritted teeth. "I've come this far and I'm not just going to give up."

"But your leg-"

"_No_, Peter," Jax snapped, turning and batting his helpful hand away. "Cowering underground isn't going to get us anywhere. I need to do this to get the island right again."

"I can have plenty of fun down there," Peter said earnestly. Jax kept her back turned. "Don't overdo it, Jax. That crocodile is probably still looking for you. Sweat and blood won't help."

Jax's shoulders slumped and she sighed in defeat. "Fine, we'll go back." Peter's face broke out in a smile, but it slid off again when Jax continued sawing away at the vine. "As soon as I finish with this. I'm not admitting defeat to a vine."

Peter half-laughed. "Alright, but hurry up."

And so silence descended until finally the vine snapped and Jax, satisfied at last, tucked the bone knife in her pyjama breast pocket proudly. "Alright then. Let's head back. We can't have gone far."

Peter lead this time, picking his way over plants and vines and funny looking little animals or deadened fruit. After twenty yards, they still had not reached the hideout, and Jax wondered if they had gone the wrong way. But she could see the severed ends of vines she had cut through and so she pressed on in silence.

"Perhaps we went a little further than you thought," Peter said after a while, pausing amongst a torn up pile of grey leaves. Jax's eyebrows furrowed and she bent, picking up the leaves and rubbing them between her fingers.

"We didn't come this way," She said slowly. "This wasn't us." Her head snapped up and she abruptly threw herself into Peter, tossing them both bodily into the jungle. Holding the dirty boy close to her body, she flattened her back against a tree and craned her neck around its rough trunk. Peter looked at her in confusion and opened his mouth to speak, but Jax slowly, deliberately held a finger to her lips and nodded her head beyond the tree. Peter, too, craned his neck, to survey the scene.

At the moment, the scene was a few rustling bushes, but Peter waited and eventually a band of big, hairy, ugly, raggedy men emerged. Most of them wore rags. All of them bore sharp, silver swords that cleared their path with a single swipe. Peter heard Jax make a soft grunt of annoyance and jealously at the sight of their huge swords compared to her puny knife, but she kept quiet. As Peter watched, the men stepped aside to let an even bigger man through. His shoulders were wide and his big dark hands held a sharpened sword in each. His face was unmarked but there was a dark shadow in his chocolate eyes as they scanned the jungle. His clothes were no better than that of the others around him, but power and superiority radiated off him in the same way that Jax's now untamed hair stuck out from her head.

Peter felt Jax tense and turned to look at her questioningly. Jax pulled the sleeve of her shirt down just enough so Peter could see her collarbones, and she tapped her finger on the odd carving in her skin at her throat. _IX. _Peter remembered what she said about the new captain of the _Jolly Roger _and assumed that the dark man was the fabled Ninth Inch.

"Mister Smee," The big man said in a voice that was soft but threatening and commanding all at the same time. Peter watched intently as the men parted again, this time with an expression that was more like scorn than admiration as a nervous-looking round man pushed his way through.

Peter gasped in surprise. "That's Smee!" He hissed at Jax. "Hook's old First Mate."

"I know," Jax whispered back, voice barely audible. "Ninth just said that."

Peter flushed in embarrassment and returned to watching the scene to see what would happen to Smee next. He wondered if the man would be cut down where he stood simply because Ninth was frustrated. That would be annoying. One of the only survivors from Peter's siege of the _Jolly Roger_, killed by someone else. Unless Peter got his own back by killing Ninth…

The threatening voice of the captain brought him shuddering back to the present. "Mister Smee, you said you knew where you were going. I think you'll find we've been here before." Ninth gestured with a thick dark arm at the pile of leaves at their feet where Peter and Jax had been standing only moments before.

"W-w-w-w-we-well you s-see, C-captain, that was all rather a long while ago-" Smee stammered nervously, wringing his red beanie in his hands as he often did when he was afraid.

"Well then," Ninth interrupted calmly. "We will just keep searching until we find it. Unless, of course-" and at this Ninth drew his sword and pointed it at Smee's face "-a little chat with an old friend refreshes your memory."

Smee's eyes widened dramatically and Peter could almost imagine his accelerated heartbeat. "U-u-unless, sir, you u-used the b-b-b-b-book?" He suggested hopefully.

Ninth snorted at his First Mate's idiocy. "I think you'll find, Mister Smee," He said softly. "That the _book _doesn't provide a detailed map from the shore to Pan's hideout."

Peter and Jax both sucked in breaths of surprise at the same time, but for two rather different reasons. Peter was understandably shocked by the stranger's wish to discover his hideout, and therefore probably him too. As far as Jax was concerned, at that very moment Ninth had brandished a little leather bound green book- _her _book. It was the copy of J.M Barrie's _Peter Pan _that she had left on her bedside table the night she was kidnapped. She uttered a smothered cry of outrage when she saw a hole in the cover, but restrained herself. Her life would end very shortly if Ninth discovered that she had escaped the crocodile. A man like him probably didn't like the idea of anyone escaping him when he condemned them to death. Jax would be a humiliation if she lived.

"Onwards, then," Ninth gestured, and his men pushed ahead, slashing viciously at everything that got in their way as they moved. Once they had melted into the jungle and their voices were unable to be heard, Peter leapt from the bushes.

"We have to get back to the hideout!" He cried. "Before they find it-"

"_No_," Jax interrupted firmly. "If we somehow manage to find our track again and get there before them, if they do find it eventually they'll find us too. I don't know what they want with you or if they want anything at all, but they'll kill me if they see that I'm alive and then no-one will be able to teach you how to fly."

She was right. "What do you propose we do then?" Peter asked helplessly.

"We follow them," Jax said simply. "They've already cut out the path for us. As long as we stay out of sight, we can wait until they either give up or find the hideout. Either way, we wait for them to leave the mainland and then we can follow the track back to the hideout and plan. Sound good?"

Peter made a face: he didn't like taking orders from anyone but himself, but he knew Jax was right. With a grudging nod, he followed Jax down the cut-down path until they caught up with the pirates again, at which point they drifted off-track and into the jungle again, watching, waiting, hoping.

The hours dragged by and the pirates became hopelessly lost, along with Jax and Peter. Jax's leg was almost numb and she was beginning to regret her plan when the pirates came across the path she had cut down a while ago now. The party halted for a rest and Jax almost collapsed on top of Peter. He held her up loyally and did the listening and watching for her while she caught her breath.

"Did we come this way, Mister Smee?" Ninth demanded, standing tall amongst his gasping, doubled-over crew.

Smee shook his head. "I don't think so, cap'n. It could've been the redskins. Or Pan," He added thoughtfully.

"If it _was _Pan," Ninth said thoughtfully. Jax wondered if he'd even absorbed the part about the redskins or if he just had selective hearing. "Then the trail would most likely lead back to his hideout, yes?"

Smee instantly saw what his captain was getting at. "Yes, it would, cap'n," He agreed, nodding eagerly.

"Just what I thought." Ninth addressed the rest of his crew, a party of four other men. "Starkey, Sheathing and Piercon, you will go down the track. Crowne, you will come with Mister Smee and I down this way."

Peter and Jax exchanged a look: they knew which way was right and which way was wrong, and right now Ninth and his party were headed down the right road, straight towards the hideout. Once both groups had gone their separate ways, Peter and Jax waited a few moments before slipping out of the jungle and darting over to the track that Ninth, Smee and Crowne currently prowled down. Their big swords made quick progress and Jax and Peter were almost breathless by the time they reached the circle of trees that stood over their hideout. With an exhausted gasp, Jax collapsed in the jungle. Peter caught her and laid her down against a tree, relieved to see that her eyes were still open (if only partially). He hoped the crocodile wouldn't give them away now if he caught the scent of Jax's blood and sweat.

Crowne stood in the middle of the circle, sword drawn and tongue constantly venturing forth to wet his dry lips. He looked nervous but Peter couldn't fathom why. After a while, Smee's round body popped out from one of the trees- Slightly's old tree, of course. Anyone could fit down that tree, including a gigantic grown-up like Ninth Inch. The feared pirates also emerged from the tree and stood with the other two in the clearing, looking at Smee demandingly.

"So where is he?" He asked softly.

Smee swallowed hard. "Probably dead, sir," the round First Mate admitted earnestly. "That track was probably very old or made by the redskins."

"There was breakfast on the table," Ninth pointed out. "And the bed had been slept in."

"Perhaps a stray tired redskin," Smee argued. "And there is no real measurement of time here. He may have died months ago, or even this morning. No-one would have been down there to make his bed or clear away his breakfast."

"I-if I may, cap'n," Crowne piped in. "It would explain the recent absence of flying boys in the sky. And the coldness of the island."

Peter chewed his lip. The pirate was right. Peter Pan may well be dead as far as the rest of the island was concerned. He had let them all down- the mermaids, the redskins, the fairies, even the pirates.

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Ninth shrugged indifferently. "Regardless of whether the boy is alive or not, I want a man in this clearing at all times to keep watch."

"And if we should see Pan, sir?" Smee ventured.

"Tie him up and bring him back to the ship at sword point," The captain replied simply. "You'll be on first watch, Mister Smee."

"Of course, sir. Very good." Smee nodded hastily.

"Crowne, you will replace Mister Smee at nightfall. I will make further preparations on board." Ninth turned his back to attempt to navigate the labyrinth that would hopefully lead him back to shore.

"Cap'n, what about the others?" Crowne asked, trotting behind his captain as obediently as a little puppy.

"They'll find their own way back," He replied carelessly before melting into the jungle. Crowne hesitated, then followed. Silence descended.

Peter jumped when Jax pinched his leg. "Is Mister Smee on watch?" She whispered. Peter wondered if she whispered out of caution or simply because she couldn't raise her voice any higher.

"Yes," Peter replied, kneeling next to her. "Why?"

"Help me up," Jax hissed. "I can talk with him."

"Jax… are you sure-?"

"Positive," She growled back. "Just help me up."

Peter obliged as obediently as Crowne and slung her arm over his shoulder, hauling her to her feet. Smee jumped to his feet and reluctantly drew a stubby sword when he heard the bushes rustling. "Who's there?" He called out, voice trembling.

"It's just me, Mister Smee." Jax smiled crookedly from beneath a dark curtain of knotted hair that cascaded over her face like a veil.

Smee peered at her curiously, eyes narrowed as he tried to make out her face. His eyes dropped and eventually he saw the infamous IX insignia at her throat and gasped in recognition. "Miss Jax!" He saw Peter too, and his eyes widened in disbelief. He almost tripped over himself as he searched for a rope before realizing he had none. Giving up on that, he pointed his sword at them again, muttering "Cap'n's orders, cap'n's orders," over and over.

"Don't," Jax said sharply, and he paused much to all their surprise. "Please. I'm hurt. Peter can't fly anyway. We're no threat to you. We just need to get below."

Smee was hesitant. "But the cap'n said-"

"I know what the captain said," Jax said gently. "But I need you to disobey him just this once. No-one will ever know. Please, Mister Smee."

Smee had always had a soft spot for the children who had been captured for sacrifice to the crocodile. This tenderness towards the defiant girl who stood before him had since turned to admiration at her survival and determination. Also, Miss Jax was the only person who called him Mister Smee and really seemed to mean it. It sounded like such a mockery when other people said it.

"A-alright," He said finally. "But just this once." He tried to sound threatening, but a brief, nervous smile escaped without his consent. Jax smiled back gratefully as Peter helped her over to Slightly's tree and gently fed her down. Smee watched Peter go down as well, and though their eyes met briefly just before he disappeared below ground, they said nothing.

Jax had already managed to haul herself onto the big bed by the time Peter got down there, so she was in perfect position for what was coming next.

"What do we do now?" Peter demanded fearfully, grasping at the roots of his hair. "We'll never be able to get above ground again! We should have never gone out today…"

"Actually, it's a good thing we did," Jax replied calmly. "If we'd stayed down here we would never have known that they were coming and we might both be dead by now. Keep your voice down, too. Smee won't give us away, but if another pirate hears us we're all dead."

"How can you trust him?" Peter hissed, pointing up at the ceiling. "He's a pirate. One of Hook's men."

Jax waved him off as though he were spouting silly wives' tales. "Smee's much too soft to be a real pirate. He'll not betray me, and if he does you can kill me."

"I'll hold you to that," Peter swore warningly. "But seriously, how are we going to get out of here again? We can't stay down here forever, we'll have to go up eventually."

"I know," Jax said anxiously, chewing her lip. "I don't know what to do. We still have to get you up and flying, but we can't do it down here."

"I could just go up there and kill the pirates, but then they'd know we're down here," Peter added unhappily.

"Unless we could sneak in and out of here somehow," Jax suggested thoughtfully.

Peter shook his head. "It'd be hard to pull off unless we when Mister Smee's shift was on. We could wait till night and see if they're asleep."

"Ninth is smarter than that," Jax disagreed.

"You could cover up the cut at your neck and just go out there alone," Peter suggested.

Jax shook her head. "Any dark-haired girl on the island found a few days after a dark-haired girl was taken to the island for sacrifice would be considered suspicious. I'd be taken straight to the ship."

Peter straightened suddenly and his eyes twinkled with the light of an idea. "Unless there was no dark-haired girl," He said slowly as the plan formulated itself in his head.

"I'm not following," Jax said, watching him with a raised eyebrow.

"What if there was no dark-haired girl for the pirates to follow?" Peter explained. "They'd all believe you were dead."

"Well, unless I show my face above ground, there will be no dark-haired girl to follow," Jax said in annoyance. "Just tell me what you're going to do in plain English."

"Jax, you are about to become the world's very first Lost Boy Girl," Peter informed her grandly.

Jax stared at him for a second before rolling over and burying her head in a pillow. "Lord, give me strength."


	8. Bargain

Jax stared at her reflection on the water surface in lame disbelief, looking at Peter's beaming reflection doubtfully.

"I've only known you for, like, two days," Jax sighed. "And I already know that this is the craziest idea you have ever had. Probably ever _will _have."

"What're you talking about?" Peter scoffed. "It's brilliant! I mean, just _look_ at you."

"Oh, I'm looking all right," Jax assured him, still staring at her reflection with considerable uncertainty.

And for good reason, too. She barely ever recognized herself. It had taken a good ten minutes of chasing a suddenly able Jax around the small room before Peter had even had time to assure her that he wasn't going to make her get a 'sex change' (whatever that was). After that, Peter had spent a gleeful hour throwing and tearing clothes on and off from Jax's ragged pyjamas until he was finally satisfied. And now… _now _Jax's hair had been cut just a little bit shorter and tucked under her huge new brown leather tri-cornered hat. A rough-cut fringe hung thinly over her eyes, hiding her face and also making her look untamed and rugged. A long, heavy, many-pocketed coat hung over a baggy white shirt. Her new dark trousers jingled with trinkets every time she moved and black high-heeled boots crept up to her knee. A leather strap was slung over her shoulder, perfectly hiding her potentially deadly Roman numeral scar tattoo. On the back of the strap hung a sharpened sword, safe in its sheath. As if that weren't enough, a bone dagger and a real dagger both lay ready at her belt.

"The pirates'll _never _find you out," Peter declared proudly.

"Only because now I actually look like one of them," Jax grumbled. "Besides, what about you? We'll have to get you above ground sooner or later."

Peter's grin did not waver. "Yes, but when you get back with the fairy and I learn how to fly again, I can take them by surprise and kill them all."

Jax sighed and nodded. "Right."

Amidst all the chasing and dress-ups, Jax and Peter had somehow found the time to conjure up a plan of sorts. Jax was to leave the hideout in her new guise and follow the track up to the redskin camp because Peter was sure that they of all people would know where to find a fairy. If not, Jax was sure they'd have a reasonably newborn baby. If she could squeeze its first laugh out of it, bag the fairy that came with it and return to the hideout, they'd supposedly be gold.

Jax was almost certain that it would take more than pixie dust alone to make Peter fly again, but when she attempted to voice her concerns Peter simply wouldn't listen and she couldn't seem to bring herself to be harsh and firm.

_He'd tell me I'm too grown up, _Jax guessed, wondering why the idea scared her so much. She had never cared about what other people thought of her. Part of her was convinced that her concern had its roots in that Peter would not hesitate to thrown Jax out and leave her to the mercy of pirates and crocodiles alike if she displeased him.

Part of her wasn't sure.

Either way, Peter was already eagerly propelling her towards the 'door' to Slightly's old tree. Before he could shove her through it, she turned and breathlessly warned him to be careful. Peter snorted in arrogant reply before he ushered her into the tree. There was a brief whoosh and with a pop Jax had suddenly been launched through the air, landing in the deadened grass on her backside with a heavy _whump_. Smee jumped and whirled in surprise and leapt to his alarmed feet with a drawn sword when he saw Jax. Initially she was surprised too at his hostility, but then she remembered her current appearance and considered telling Smee the truth, but thought better of it. She couldn't put too much faith in a _pirate_, after all.

"What's yer name?" Smee demanded, trying to sound tough and failing miserably.

Jax panicked for a second before she had an idea. Or, rather, a memory from something she had seen in a movie one time. With an air of intimidating confidence, Jax lazily waltzed over to the trembling pirate, yanking one of the trinkets on her trousers away easily as she sidled closed.

"How about a pretty bit of silver," She slurred craftily. "And we _forget_ the name?"

Smee's eyes flickered between the tacky bit of silver and Jax's foreign face uncertainly and for a petrifying moment Jax thought he had seen through her disguise. The fear passed quickly, for with a slight nod Smee sheathed his sword and subtly relieved Jax of her cheap trinket. Jax's legs felt shaky with relief as he turned away from her deliberately, whistling tunelessly and wondering around aimlessly, never meeting her eyes. With a satisfied nod, Jax turned on her heel and marched purposefully towards the smoke lazily drifting into the sky in the distance.

Jax emerged from the dense jungle some considerable time later, covered in minor bruises and scratches with half of the jungle caught in her clothes. Just as Peter had promised, there was a track already carved through the jungle, but as a child born and bred in London Jax lacked any particular talent for hiking or anything quite of the sort.

In her exhaustion, she had become reckless. Jax's sudden outburst from the jungle had not gone unnoticed by the two guards that stood sentry at the gates of the high-walls that protected the redskin camp. They moved swiftly and silently to the intruder and grabbed her by her arms, dragging her roughly to the gates. Jax opened her mouth to protest and tensed herself to struggle, but apparently thought better of it. She resigned herself optimistically, reminding herself to be grateful that they hadn't killed her on the spot.

The guards halted in front of the gates and one of them let loose a guttural sound, which apparently made sense to someone because the gates slowly swung open. They continued onwards and Jax was dragged onwards into a village of mud huts and leafy lean-tos. A few people milled about, either wearing clothes woven out of dry, dead leaves and stalks or nothing at all. Jax could see that they were all frightfully skinny and their dark eyes had no hope. They had bizarre piercings in bizarre places and they were mostly covered with smudged tribal paint. As Jax passed, a few heads turned, but even if they did they quickly turned back to their work. She was of no interest to them. She was a white stranger, she could do nothing for them. A leather tepee towered over the entire camp, positioned in front of a blazing fire on which logs were still being thrown by lifeless natives.

Jax's review of the gloomy camp was brought to a halt when the guards tossed her down carelessly, forcing her to her knees. Her hands were quickly tied behind her back and spears were pointed at her from all angles with no hesitation. Jax blew out her cheeks as she reflected on what a sorry mess she had just dragged herself into.

One of the redskins suddenly bellowed out a string of clicks, shrieks, grunts and a lot of other silly sounding and sometimes rude noises and the few people that populated the camp gathered around the bonfire. Jax turned to see how many of them there were, but the spears were shoved dangerously close to her face in response and she quickly turned back, in no rush to lose her face. She was, however, permitted to look up as the door to the tepee fluttered open and a regal woman stepped forth. Her dark skin was surprisingly clean and untouched by the paint that adorned the rest of the tribe. Her eyes, on the other hand, were just as dead and lifeless as everyone else's, but at the same time were narrow and imposing, seeing and absorbing everything. Her cheekbones were high and sharp and her lips were thin. She wore a toga of fur and leather and feathers and bones adorned her clothes and hair. She had no piercings like the rest of the tribe.

As the intimidating woman turned her gaze onto Jax, she couldn't help but to flinch. Her gaze flitted to the ground, but only for a second. She would not admit to intimidation by this woman. She had to show that she was worthy of their trust.

"Why you here?" The woman snapped in broken, heavily accented English. Jax blinked in surprise, but then set about speaking in as deep a voice she could manage.

"Peter Pan sent me," She said slowly, enunciating each word carefully.

The woman's eyes narrowed hatefully. "You call me Chief," She instructed harshly. "Chief Tiger Lily."

Jax bowed her head in respect. "Chief Tiger Lily," She corrected herself hastily. "Peter Pan has sent be to bargain with you."

As if she had not heard the first time, Tiger Lily's eyes narrowed once more and her jaw and fists clenched all at once. "PETER PAN?" She roared. "HE LIVES STILL?"

Jax winced and flinched. "Yes," She said slowly, forcing herself to meet Tiger Lily's eyes. "I thought-"

"How he alive," Tiger Lily demanded, voice low. "If island dead?"

"It's sort of a long story," Jax tried. "That's why I'm here-"

"Whatever Pan wants," Tiger Lily said carelessly. "I not give. Kill her." The last instruction was repeated in the redskin sound language, much to Jax's dread.

Tiger Lily turned to leave and the many spears pointed and Jax drew back and prepared to strike. Ignoring both of these unpleasant factors, Jax lurched awkwardly forwards, landing ungracefully on her stomach. Her hat jostled on her head and a few locks of knotted hair fell about her shoulders. She took no notice.

"That's hardly fair!" She protested at Tiger Lily's turned back. The fearsome chief paused. "You haven't even listened to what I have to say yet! I don't know what you have against Peter, but I'm trying to help him to bring this island back to life."

Tiger Lily whirled around, her black eyes furious. "My tribe die protecting Pan," She snapped angrily. "And now we die again because island die. He doom us. No love."

"This island is dying because Peter is depressed," Jax said hotly. "And if you just took a second to listen to me you'd hear how I'm trying to help him."

Tiger Lily paused before gesturing to the guards and grunting/clicking/snorting/whistling something to them. Obediently, they untied her and lead her up to the tepee. Much to her surprise, Jax found herself sitting opposite Tiger Lily on a large animal rug in the tepee a few moments later. Tiger Lily nailed her with a terrifying glare. "Explain," the Chief said shortly.

And so Jax launched into a slow, simple-worded summary of Peter's situation and how this effected the island. Jax considered throwing her own story in there, but decided to keep the talking to a minimum. For one thing, this woman's English was limited and for another, Jax didn't want Tiger Lily to use her many enemies on the island to her advantage if she did something wrong. For now, she could just be an anonymous sidekick.

"You are woman," Tiger Lily said suddenly when Jax had finished, causing her to pale a little. "Why you dress as man?"

"Peter misses the Lost Boys," Jax muttered quickly, averting her eyes. In doing so, she noticed three wooden cot-like things set up at the head of the tepee. One of them was raised higher than the other two, as if it were sacred or something. She could not see what was in them, but part of her hoped at least one of them held a baby.

Tiger Lily's cold voice brought her back to the present. "What your plan?" She demanded. "Why you come?"

"Well, Peter said you would know where some fairies were," Jax shrugged slowly. "Do you?"

Tiger Lily barked a short, cold laugh. "No fairy on this island," She said decisively. "Not for long time. All dead."

Jax allowed herself a small moment of 'I told you so' before getting back to it. "Well then, do you have any newborn babies that haven't laughed yet?"

And that was when the air turned suddenly hostile. Tiger Lily leapt to her feet and directed a spear at Jax's face with unbelievable speed. Her breath caught.

"Stand!" Tiger Lily ordered, and Jax obeyed hurriedly, being careful not to impale herself on the spear. Tiger Lily directed her at spear point to the cradles at the other end and brought her to a halt over the middle one. "Look!" Tiger Lily demanded.

So Jax looked.

As she had guessed, in each cradle was one baby. They were all sleeping, but they were so still that she almost believed they were dead, or maybe just well-made dolls. They were all tiny things, all skinny, all fearfully pale. They sniffed and coughed quietly in their sleep, and just that little movement made their entire delicate frames shake violently.

"What happened to them?" Jax breathed in horror, not even daring to touch the babies out of fear she would shatter their delicate bones.

"Three babies in tribe," Tiger Lily explained coldly. "Only three. Rest die. This is healthiest." She pointed one long, elegant finger at the baby in the middle. True, it was slightly larger than the other two, but Jax saw no hope for survival for any of them.

"All because island die," Tiger Lily continued softly. "Because Pan abandon us, they die."

"Please, Tiger Lily," Jax pleaded desperately. "If you let me make one of these children laugh, and if you can keep them alive long enough for me to teach Peter how to fly again, they will live, I promise."

But Tiger Lily just shook her head. "No-one touches children," She declared firmly. "Too fragile. You must leave. Never return. Do not meddle. Go home."

As Tiger Lily barked out another string of orders in her foreign language, two more guards came in and dragged her out in the same method they had dragged her in.

"Get _off _me!" Jax protested as she kicked and struggled against their strong hold. "Chief! You're mad! I'm trying to help you!"

But as the doors of the leather tepee flapped with her passing, she saw Tiger Lily's sad eyes leave hers and turn back to the precious, precious children that mightn't even make it to tomorrow.

Jax fell limp and hopeless in the guard's arms as she was dragged backwards back the way she had come. A few curious heads peered out this time to watch her humiliating exit, but they disappeared quickly when she was thrown out of the gates and back into the jungle. The gates slowly shut and the guards watched her carefully, prepared to impale her if she tried to re-enter.

Finally the gate shut and Jax was alone. She sat still for a few moments before swearing loudly and kicking the grey palm tree next to her. It hurt and she fell back down on her bottom, cursing under her breath and holding her foot in her hand, rocking back and forth as she thought. What the hell was she going to do? It was a dead end no matter how she looked at it.

She caught herself wondering why she was trying so hard. This was all just a dream. Even if, by some bogus miracle, she _did _manage to make Peter fly again, it wouldn't matter anyway. She would just wake up and look down and her leg would still be in one piece, unscarred. There would be no _ix _at her throat and there would be no Indian tribe or flying boy depending on her to fix everything on this deadened island again.

But as her leg throbbed painfully, she also caught herself wondering if maybe, just maybe, this was real. It would make sense, but it wouldn't. But how could she just accept that this was all real? If this _was _a dream, acceptance could just plunge her into a deeper stage of delirium. She didn't want to end up in a nuthouse.

And yet, despite her misgivings about the whole affair, there was something about it that just felt… _right_. Like she was meant to be here or something. She couldn't explain any of it, but she didn't know how to make sense of any of it either so she decided for the moment to just go along with it.

After a few more minutes of going along with it, she had a plan. It was risky and probably wouldn't work, but it was something. She had to give it a try.


	9. Crime

Tiger Lily had not moved from watching over the babies since the stranger had been taken away. She was torn: as tribe leader, it was her duty to ensure that her tribe survived, even if it meant trusting a white woman. At the same time, she was much too proud to turn to a white woman as her last resort, and her fury at Peter Pan still lingered. And she couldn't let anyone touch the children. They were too precious. She could not let the tribe perish, and these feeble babies, the only survivors of the harsh conditions they were forced to face, were the only hope of continuity. The chances of their survival were slim, but they were all Tiger Lily had.

She was wrenched back to reality when one of the guards, Roaring Panther, burst through the leather flaps. She turned and waited expectantly for whatever reason the man had for his rude interruption.

"There is a fire," He explained breathlessly in the native language. "At the feeding ground."

Tiger Lily's breath caught and her heart sank horribly with dread. The feeding ground was probably the only half-decent clearing left on the island, and even then it was pretty bad. There was hardly any food there anyway and the water hole was shrinking gradually. If there was a fire, the grass was so dry the flames could quickly consume what little food they had left to them, and then… surely, then they would all die, one by one. Slowly, painfully, horribly.

"Have you sent people down there yet?" She demanded, leaping out of the teepee and out into the open. Sure enough, smoke was belching into the sky to the west, where the feeding ground was. She felt close to crying. She hadn't cried since she was a little girl.

"Yes, but they are weak," Roaring Panther informed her dutifully, regretfully. "And the jungle is thick. We don't know how long it may take before they get down there."

Tiger Lily's mind raced. "As long as the fire is put out before it reaches the camp," She said finally, going straight to the worst case and most likely scenario. "We will find other food grounds."

Roaring Panther nodded obediently and raced off, barking more orders and preparing himself to go to battle with the fire. Tiger Lily was surprised to find herself thinking wistfully of the white girl. Perhaps she could have helped…

If she had any idea what the white girl was doing at that moment, she would not have been thinking such thoughts.

It had taken Jax ages to start the fire- clicking stones together wasn't as easy as the movies made out- but once she had it took off quickly. She couldn't know that she had just set fire to the redskin's most important part of the jungle, but she knew she would make up for it once she got Peter flying again and the real island went back to the way it had once been.

She waited for a long time to make sure that they were coming, and waited even longer to make sure Tiger Lily was present. When the few people she had seen during her brief time in the camp were accounted for, she picked her way back up to the jungle. It was a long, hard trek, but the fire was huge so she had plenty of time. When she finally did reach the camp, she was more cautious this time and watched carefully for guards before creeping forward. Obviously the gate could only be opened from the inside and, in a false sense of security (or perhaps recklessness) Tiger Lily had taken everyone in the camp down to the fire to attempt to fight it, including the gate keeper. In order to return, they had also left the gate open.

"Bless you, Tiger Lily," Jax breathed, unable to believe her luck. She tip-toed in cautiously and snapped a brittle twig deliberately. No-one came running out to attack her, so she proceeded back up to the tepee with a considerable degree of confidence.

When she entered the tepee, her heart suddenly crawled into her throat. If this went wrong and she ended up killing the children… Tiger Lily wouldn't know that it was Jax who had done it, but Jax would. She could live with that. But she had to do this. Being careful not to touch the little, delicate body directly, she leaned close over the strongest baby and wrapped her hand in its rabbit hide blanket to nudge it gently. With a quiet murmur, its dark eyes opened blearily.

So far so good.

Jax couldn't help crooning to the little thing. "Hey buddy," She said softly, leaning in close. "How you going?" The baby blinked at her in blank reply. Jax smacked her lips and remembered her purpose, patting the side of the cot decisively. "Right. Let's do this."

The next five minutes passed in a colourful collage of Jax dancing and making strange noises and doing all manner of unseemly things, but the baby just stared at her as though she were crazy (which, she reflected, she very well could have been). Her hat lay discarded on the ground and her tousled hair fell wildly about her shoulders as she stared hopelessly at the baby.

"What is it gonna take to make you laugh?" She demanded in exasperation, her head falling into her hands. "You're killing me, mate."

Jax threw her head back, shoulders slumped, and made a gargling sound in her throat before throwing herself forward again onto her belly. On the way down, she hit her head on the corner of the cot. With a howl she sat up again and clutched at her head, swearing under her breath.

Beneath all of her din, she could swear she heard the baby laugh.

She froze and clambered over to the cot, but she couldn't tell if the baby was smiling or crying. She waited at the bedside with bated breath, watching, waiting, hoping… She almost chewed a hole in her bottom lip with all the anxiety the tension brought her. Her fingers unconsciously crossed as she watched nervously, praying that she had been right.

And there it was.

The baby laughed again.

Its little brown face scrunched up and its toothless gums were bared in a funny-looking smile. Jax squealed with delight and danced around the tepee for a few moments before darting back to the cot and waiting to see what would happen, wondering how a fairy was made.

As the baby laughed, little golden stars floated out of its open mouth and into the air, where they gathered in a small glowing orb. It pulsated gently as more and more little stars joined it until it was the size of Jax's fist, it which point it exploded gently and the little stars floated down again and landed gently on the baby's skin. Its eyelids slowly drooped and it fell asleep again, but colour had returned to his cheeks and Jax knew that her meddling would not have hurt him. He had, after all, the blessing of a fairy.

Which brought her back to the matter at hand. The fairy floated above the baby's head, blinking rapidly as it took in its surroundings. It stretched its skinny arms and yawned as Jax looked on in wonderment.

Fairies were not made like people were. They were born with hair, and they looked like miniature grown-ups. If Jax had to guess, she'd say this fairy was a boy. His auburn hair was short and spiky but a longer bit hung down by his temple like a feather. His frame was elegant and slim and his bright green eyes twinkled merrily. He was, to Jax's surprise, already clothed in matching shirt and shorts made of dried brown autumn leaves. His feet were bare and his golden-tinged, transparent wings hovered at his back so fast that Jax couldn't quite track the movement.

"Hey buddy," Jax crooned softly in the same manner she had spoken to the baby. "You wanna come with me?" She opened her coat and opened one of the pockets. "Come here, come on…"

That was when the fairy spoke. Or, rather, tinkled. Jax was surprised to find she understood every word:

_Don't patronize me, _he snapped. _I'm not going anywhere with you, and even if I was I wouldn't go in your stinky coat._

Jax's shoulders slumped and she retrieved her hat before abruptly trapping the fairy under it and jamming it back on her head. She could hear the fairy's muffled, often rude complaints but ignored them as she made her triumphant way out of the tepee…

Where a circle of sharp spears rather rudely greeted her.

Jax paled and faltered. "Hey, guys."

Tiger Lily stepped forward. Her face was covered with soot, but it was also twisted with rage. Her eyes were filled with hate. "What. You. Do," She demanded, caged rage echoing prominently in her voice.

Jax swallowed. "I-I told you, I need a fairy-"

"SO YOU RISK THEIR LIVES?" Tiger Lily roared, making Jax flinch.

"But it worked," She croaked meekly, lifting her hat. "This is the fairy. He healed the baby-"

"Lies!" Tiger Lily hissed through her teeth, but Jax could see her dark eyes wandering to the fairy that floated over her head. She, too, turned her head to look at the marvelous creature again, but having finally untangled its thin limbs from Jax's messy hair it promptly took off and vanished back in the tepee, where it hovered lovingly over the baby's head.

"You ungrateful little-" Jax snarled, forgetting herself and moving to retrieve the fairy again from the tepee.

Tiger Lily made a clicking noise with her tongue and a two guards lunged forward, gripping her arms and yanking her back again. She slumped hopelessly in her grasp and counted the spears pointed at her. It looked like the entire population was prepared to kill her. She sighed hopelessly.

"Go ahead," She mumbled. "Spear me through. Whatever." She was still keen to wake up from her dream.

The spears drew back, but Tiger Lily held up her hand, an evil smile lighting up her features. "I have better idea," She leered wickedly before emitting a string of orders to what was left of her tribe. When she was done, they all laughed horribly and the guards began to drag her away. The tribe, including Tiger Lily, followed, murmuring excitedly.

"What are you going to do to me?" Jax demanded, struggling weakly in the guard's strong grasp.

Tiger Lily laughed coldly. "Tell me, white woman," She snarled. "You ever seen mermaid?"


	10. Punishment

It was peeing with rain by the time the small, pitiful party reached the beach. Thunder rumbled overhead like as though an empty stomach was hidden within the fat, grey clouds. A few palm trees leaned from side to side as the wind blew against them. It did not take a nature expert to know that a storm was coming.

The gathering on the beach, however, would have been dramatic even without the rain. The redskins now all stood in a semi-circle on the grey sand, spears raised at the white girl who stood at the shoreline, the inky water lapping the toes of her black boots gently. Her hands were tied behind her back and her dark brown eyes were calmly resigned as she watched the rolling waters before her. A pirate ship loomed in the distance, its black shadow bobbing up and down with an ominous air. The wind blasted her in the face, blowing her dark tangled hair out of her face and away from her shoulders.

Tiger Lily stood at the head of the circle, her sooty face gazing down at her victim with grim discontent. "You betray my people," She bellowed over the sound of the wind. "And you threaten baby life."

Jax opened her mouth to explain the little technicalities of that notion, but then shut it again promptly. She had given up trying to make the incensed tribe leader see reason about halfway through the jungle.

"For your crimes," Tiger Lily continued. "You drown with mermaids!"

Tiger Lily snorted harshly through her nose and the tribe advanced on her. She stepped forward calmly when she felt the cold tips of their spears poke through her jacket. They stalked her steadily, pushing her into the waves until their spears could reach no further and they watched with baited breath as Jax stood knee-deep in the rolling, black water while they waited patiently at the shore, not daring to touch the water.

Jax tightened her lips grimly and looked down, scanning the water for any sign of… anything. The water was as black as squid ink and she could not even see her own feet, let alone anything like mermaids. As she stood there alone, the blood from her leg trickling through her trousers and into the water, one ominous thought circled tauntingly around her head.

_The mermaids aren't like they used to be. More fish than human. More shark than anything, really._

Peter's words chased themselves around her head endlessly. She had never seen sharks outside of TV shows, but she wasn't an idiot. She had read the newspapers, watched the documentaries, heard the survival stories. Jax had absolutely no athletic ability and tied up as she was she wouldn't have a hope anyway. She would be taken down by surprise and then she would be helpless. This wasn't like the last time, with the crocodile…

_The crocodile. _Jax hadn't thought of that. If the mermaids found her, the crocodile almost certainly would. Even as Jax wondered what the mermaids might look like and began to imagine what horrible shark-y abilities they would have, she couldn't help but think that the massive monster of a crocodile that was intent on killing her would take the mermaids- and, eventually, Jax- out of the picture far quicker than any mermaid could.

Everywhere she looked she was doomed. If she tried to swim to the pirate ship, not only would she drown due to distance, unfitness and the fact that her hands were tied, but the mermaids/crocodile could find her halfway and kill her anyway. If by some miracle she reached the pirate ship they would probably cut her down anyway. If she attempted to flee she would be made into a shish-kebab and if she stayed she was fish food. The shish-kebab option seemed the quickest and the easiest, but Jax didn't want to die a coward. She would stand and wait for the fish to claim her.

_At least I get to wake up_, she thought dimly, reminding herself that it was not death, it was just consciousness.

At the moment, she disappeared under the black sea. The redskins gasped in surprise and stood back a little, not daring to put more than a toenail into the water. The water frothed and swirled where the girl had disappeared and the tribes people were in no doubt as to what had happened to her.

Underwater, Jax did not have time to think. A powerful force had come out of nowhere and knocked her from her feet, dragging her down. What had to be ten powerful hands pinned her down to the sand as she kicked and struggled, her lips pressed tight together as her lungs screamed for oxygen. She felt sharp teeth sink into her leg and instinctively screamed. No sound came out, but sea water replaced the air she had so carefully bothered to hold in her lungs. She coughed on instinct but to no avail; there was only water to fill her lungs now. She was doomed.

In the dark water she could see nothing, not even the bubbles that floated past her and up to the surface. She wrestled weakly against her attackers as they clawed her and bit her, but they were much more powerful then she was. She felt hair and fingernails and powerful muscles scrape across her body and with her last ounce of energy she pressed her feet against something and pushed up to the surface. Her lips touched the surface but only for the briefest of instances because her heavy clothes quickly dragged her down again. With the half lungful of air that she had barely swallowed, she found the energy to smile as she sank to the bottom again, furious screeches ringing in her ears. She had done the best she could and now she could finally wake up in her bed with a warm breakfast and no injuries. It was an awful way to end a dream but Jax had had enough.

And yet, much to her surprise, survival instinct took over again and Jax battled against the mermaids, thrashing weakly. All she needed was to find a little break in their ranks and get up to the surface. She only needed one breath. Perhaps if she survived the ordeal she would win the redskin's respect and they would let her live.

But the lack of oxygen had clouded her judgement. The smallest twitch became a struggle but her oxygen-deprived brain processed it as a mighty kick to the flank of the closest mermaid. She strained against the wet rope that bound her but knew that she had no hope of undoing a wet knot, especially not in her current state. Her feeble mind raced weakly but she knew she was running out of options. This was the end.

_Not the end, _she told herself as firmly as she could. _Just consciousness._

Another set of teeth sank into her arm and the eyes that she had not realized she had shut opened with her mouth as she exclaimed in pain. She watched the fat air bubbles float from her mouth to the surface hopelessly, the salt stinging her eyes and blurring her vision. Her hair seemed suspended in the water and her hat had long since floated to the surface.

A shape emerged from the blackness around Jax and pushed her down onto her back, pinning her down. That was when Jax decided her eyes were better off shut, because despite her blurred vision she could see with petrifying clarity the wide jaws of the beast that threatened to swallow her head whole. Row upon row of sharp, dirty teeth, stained with blood- _her _blood- lowered down to clamp themselves onto her face-

As Jax's vision began to flicker, something else leapt from the shadows and barreled into the mermaid's side, blasting her away into the blackness with a furious screech. Something heavy scraped across Jax's belly and the force of its passing knocked her back.

She didn't have time to worry. She had to breathe. _Now. _With a last, feeble effort, she kicked off once more from the sand and pushed up to the surface. The air that she gasped down had never tasted so sweet. Coughing up sea water, she gasped deep breaths and gave thanks to every God she knew for saving her-

Just as she swallowed another massive breath, something else knocked her down again. A terrifying weight slammed into her legs and knocked her once more onto her side. She landed, underwater, on a thick, scaly surface and was moving impossibly fast through the water. She had no idea where she was or what was happening until she heard a deafening, inhuman roar and felt a long, thick tail come around and, with an effortless tap on her chin, flung her off. Jax fell back through the water and realized with an inappropriate sinking feeling that she had been moved into deeper waters. She couldn't stand up, let alone push herself up to the surface.

The crocodile had found her. That bloody, frighteningly intelligent crocodile had her. She was helpless to its brute power. She waited, eyes wide, for the beast to come back and claim her, but the first thing she saw was another mermaid. Her blurred sight wasn't perfect, but the tail was longer and sleeker than the crocodile's and she was pretty sure crocodiles didn't have hair. The mermaid floated protectively in front of a sinking Jax and she blearily made out some sort of weapon in the creature's hand. For a moment, she thought the mermaid was going to protect her and save her, but then she realized: the mermaid was just being territorial. It wasn't going to let some brute like the crocodile take her prey.

Jax hit the bottom and watched in the weak sunlight that barely penetrated the black water the shadowy scene that unfolded over her. The mermaid stood (or, perhaps, swam) her ground and hissed menacingly at the crocodile that lazily swam out to greet her. With another roar, the crocodile lunged at her. Jax prayed the mermaid would stab the crocodile's open mouth with her spear- she had more of a chance against the mermaids than the croc- but the weapon snapped in half in the crocodile's powerful jaws. The mermaid screeched furiously but retreated much to Jax's dread. She watched in horror as the thick, fat shadow of the crocodile descended slowly, gloatingly over its prey. Her vision flickered and her lungs screamed for air. She summoned the energy for a smile, proud that she had died fighting and let the last bubbles of air escape her lips.

She would wake up soon. It would all be over. She could go _home_. The word had never sounded so nice.

See, right there. As her vision faded, another grew. A little glowing sphere, the sun through her window, obviously. Jax locked her bleary gaze on it, determined to watch it grow brighter as she woke up. But as her vision faded, so did the light. Terror made her slow heart beat a few beats faster, but it didn't last very long. Her chest burned and her head ached. Light or not, she couldn't hold on anymore.

Just as the blackness pressed in on her and unconsciousness claimed her, Jax saw a streamlined shadow enter the water and heard the crocodile roar in fury. Then a golden light enveloped her limited vision and she saw no more.


	11. Sacrificial Saviour

It had not occurred to Peter that Jax had been gone for a while until he had managed to close up all the trees except his and Slightly's (he would fit Jax into her own tree when she got back) _and _clean up all evidence that people had been living in the underground hideout over the past few days. He had never been so productive before. It worried him a little, but what worried him more was that had had had time to do all of this and still Jax had not returned.

So Peter set about pacing and thinking about what may have happened. Suppose Jax had found a fairy. She should be back soon, and then all would be well. Of course, suppose the redskins did not take kindly to her. Then she might never be back. He should go and find her. But she had told him not to leave until she got back. And there was always the chance she would escape, anyway. She had escaped from pirates and crocodiles, right?

Peter brushed his uncertain thoughts away and took on a new task, namely thinking up all manner of happy thoughts that might make him fly. He thought of the look on Jax's face when they had been playing dress-ups before, but although it made him smile it just didn't seem like enough. Not nearly enough. His thoughts reluctantly wandered to Wendy and the others, but his stomach twisted horribly at the thought of them and he left it quickly, but once he had thought of them they kept creeping back into his train of thought. He had not thought of them since he had met Jax. Curious, he thought. He had spent rather a long while thinking only of them. Or perhaps he had just spent a lot of time thinking about Wendy. He missed them all so much, but if Jax was right it didn't matter. They would not come back to Neverland. They never would.

_There's no 'if', _Peter told himself. _Jax is always right. She knows everything. They're all… gone. They're never coming back._

But even so, hopeful, unlikely scenarios played themselves out in Peter's head in which Jax taught him how to fly and he returned her to London and Wendy was there waiting for him like she always promised she would and they went away with Tinker Bell who had been hiding somewhere on the island all this time…

Peter fell asleep with his playful dream wandering around in his head. He smiled occasionally in his sleep, but then he would cry for a few seconds. The pattern repeated itself endlessly until he was awakened by the sound of bells.

"Tink!" He exclaimed joyfully, leaping to his feet and hitting his head on a root in the ceiling. His head throbbed, but as he looked around he saw nothing. His smile slipped away and his shoulders slumped and he shook his head, mumbling 'just a dream' to himself as he sank back down into his pillows once more.

Peter sat bolt upright again, positive he had heard it this time. Bells, he was certain of it. "Tink?" He called out softly, almost afraid of the answer. He scrambled over to Tink's old little bedroom, but it was as empty as always. His hope began to fade again until he felt a sharp tug in his hair. He winced and brought a hand up to slap and his hair, but an outburst of bells stopped him just in time.

Carefully probing his untamed hair, he poked around until he found something that _moved_. His hand jerked back in surprise at first, but then he brought it forward and gently untangled the little struggling thing from his knots. He slowly brought whatever it was down to his viewpoint in his cupped hand, and couldn't believe his eyes.

It was a _fairy, _just like Jax had promised. It was not Tinker Bell, for this one was a boy. He was gesturing wildly and his wings were fluttering madly and his mouth moved but only bells sounds came out, but try as he might Peter could not understand what they said.

"I can't understand you!" He exclaimed in frustration. "What is it?"

The fairy rolled his little eyes before quickly miming for Peter to follow him. With that, he bolted out of the hideout again, leaving a clueless Peter to stumble along behind. Smee was, thankfully, still on watch, and he was also asleep. Peter raced past him, keeping his eyes locked on the golden orb that raced ahead of him through the air, shooting off down a track that the pirates must have cut down. Already it was slightly overgrown, but they managed. Peter opened his mouth once or twice to tell the fairy to give him the golden dust he needed to fly, but then he would be promptly whacked in the face by a branch and he would be left spitting leaves out for a few minutes as he ran along.

Peter hardly noticed it when the fairy stopped and almost stumbled out of the jungle onto the grey beach, but he was stopped when the fairy grabbed a lock of his hair and yanked back as hard as he could, bringing Peter to attention. Crouching down behind the leaves instinctively, Peter surveyed the scene.

Not that there was too much to survey. The beach was empty. The water grew steadily wilder and the waves washed higher and higher up the beach. The rain and wind that had not been able to reach them through the thick canopy now howled and lashed at Peter's face as he squinted out through the storm, but still he saw nothing.

"You're a real nutjob, you are," He muttered to the fairy, who replied with an offended string of bells. "And I still can't understand you, so you can say whatever you like but it won't hurt me."

The fairy rolled his eyes again before flying out in front of Peter's face and kicking off a game of charades. It took a while for Peter to get it, but eventually by some miracle he caught on: _girl, mermaids, water, now._

"Jax?" He demanded in disbelief. "What's she doing in there? I told her it's dangerous…"

The fairy pulled at the roots of his hair in exasperation before waving three fingers behind his head and dancing around in the air, clapping his hand to his mouth silently. "The redskins!" Peter exclaimed, and the fairy clapped sarcastically in reward. Still, Peter was sceptical. "Are you sure she's in there? I can't see anything."

At that moment, as if on cue, there was a splash and a gasp. Peter's head turned and he saw Jax's head and torso bobbing in the furious water. She spluttered helplessly for air and Peter leapt from the jungle, prepared to run into the dangerous waters if only to save her but no sooner had he crossed the jungle boundaries did Jax disappear under the rolling waters again.

She did not come up again.

"I've got to go!" Peter shouted over the roars of the wind, ignoring the fairy's warning bells. Without further ado, he ran out onto the sand and into the icy cold water. The water came up and splashed his legs and arms and torso as he pushed through the savage waves before finally diving under a wave and swimming as hard as he could against the tide.

Curious mermaids dared to swim closer, but he stopped just long enough to show them his dagger before continuing on. They left him alone, but he could sense them following behind. His open eyes stung as he pushed through the salty water, but as limited as the light was down here it was better than total blindness.

Even better, perhaps, was a fairy. There was a quiet _plip _in front of him as his tiny body punched through the water, but once Peter's bleary eyes had made out who it was he accepted gratefully and they pressed on. Eventually he had to resurface for air, and when he did he could see how far out he had already swum. He hoped he hadn't gone past Jax. She could be dead by now because of his carelessness.

With the light the fairy gave off, though, Jax was pretty hard to miss. Or, at least, the crocodile was, and Peter knew that if the crocodile was in the water Jax would certainly be nearby. He swam up and sucked in a quick breath before pushing himself as hard as he could through the water, dagger held out. The crocodile roared in rage when the dagger pierced its scaly hide, and out of the corner of his eye Peter saw Jax's pale face in the sand, illuminated by the fairy's light.

He spared a moment for relief before getting back to the task at hand, i.e surviving. He lunged again at the furious crocodile and scarred it down the snout. With another roar, it propelled itself towards Peter but was smart enough to know a dagger when it saw it. With a reluctant grumble, it swam off, but Peter could almost imagine it making silent crocodile-oaths to kill both Peter and Jax next time it had the opportunity.

When Peter looked down again, both Jax and the fairy were gone. Panicked, he resurfaced again and hollered out Jax's name before remembering that she was unconscious. Fighting to keep his head above the waves, he looked around wildly, desperately. His face split into a relieved and impressed grin when he saw a black, sopping wet shape drifting through the air a little over his head and the golden globe that guided it. Half-laughing in relief, he swam back to shore. The waves dunked him more than once and he was spluttering by the time he got to shore. Dragging himself up next to Jax, the smile quickly wiped itself off his face.

She was still embraced in a cocoon of golden light from the fairy, but her face was still and her body stiller. Water frothed and bubbled, dribbling out from the corners of her mouth. Peter nervously rolled her onto her side and opened her mouth experimentally and what had to be half the ocean poured out.

"She's not breathing," He murmured to the fairy when he fluttered up next to him. Peter ignored the urgent tugging at his ear in favour of fretting over what he was going to do. "How do we-"

He was interrupted by a low, warning chime. He brushed the fairy away in annoyance and focused entirely on Jax desperately wondering how he was supposed to save her, if at all. His flailing train of thought, however, was interrupted when a flat, cold surface touched his chin and tipped his head up.

Tiger Lily sneered down at him, spear pressed threateningly to his throat. "Gotcha," She snarled triumphantly.

When Jax's eyes flickered open at last, her first assumption was that she had rolled out of her bed and onto the floor, which was strangely crumbly beneath her body. Then she realized she was not breathing and sat up abruptly, coughing and spluttering madly as she tried to remember where she was.

It all came back in a rush: the fairy, the redskins, the mermaids, the crocodile, Peter… _Peter! _She had to find him before he got worried. She stumbled to her feet but had barely stood when her heavy coat and water-filled boats dragged her back down onto her behind again.

_Don't move, _a voice said in her head. _You need to rest._

"Who said that?" Jax demanded, dragging her sodden dagger from her belt with some difficulty and brandishing it as she looked around wildly for the speaker.

_Me._

"Who's me?" Jax said suspiciously, whacking her head experimentally to see if she was just going crazy.

_Turn around._

Jax obeyed and slowly swivelled her body until she was facing the sea again. For a moments, all she saw was the stormy sea. Then what looked like a lump of stringy seaweed rose, followed by what could be the ugliest face Jax had ever seen.

Her skin was green and mottled and patches of scales appeared at random. Her eyes were _huge _and lidless, plastered on either side of her face. Her lips were thick and fleshy and it Jax's life-threatening encounter with the mermaids had taught her anything it was that that mouth was host to an impossible number of teeth. Her hair was thin, light green and wet, framing her wide face. Her ears protruded from beneath her hair but were flattened against the sides of her head. At least, Jax _thought _they were ears. They looked more like extra fins than anything.

_That's really very offensive, _the mermaid said to Jax, but her lips never moved aside from a brief smile.

Jax blanched. "You can hear my thoughts?"

The mermaid smiled again, baring her grey gums and sharp teeth. Jax shuddered and her legs and arms tingled. _Just as much as you can hear mine._

"Why don't you just talk normally?" Jax wondered.

_After the island died, _the mermaid explained somewhat sadly. _We lost our humanity until the fish part took over almost completely. We've all forgotten how to talk, but when we saw Peter-_

"You saw Peter?" Jax repeated excitedly. "When, where was he?"

_He saved you, _the mermaid replied, sounding startled. _He attacked the crocodile and his golden friend made you fly back to shore._

"The fairy," Jax breathed. "He came back!"

_Perhaps, _the mermaid replied slowly, unsure what this human was talking about. _But when he got back to shore he was taken by the redskins._

Jax's face fell. "Oh."

_After he left I came ashore to see if you were alright, _the mermaid explained. _I'm terribly sorry about my sisters and I, we were only acting on instinct…_

"It's alright," Jax brushed it off carelessly. "How come I can hear your thoughts anyway?"

_My breath became yours._

"Wha-? Oh." Jax's fingers flew to her lips subconsciously, and she heard the mermaid giggle in her head. "Do you know where they took Peter?"

_To their camp, I'd say, _the mermaid replied, shrugging her long, bony shoulders. She had swum closer now, and Jax could vaguely see the outline of a long, sleek shark tail in the water. _There's no way to know if he's dead or not yet._

Jax swallowed. "Let's hope for the best, shall we," She muttered, more to herself than anyone.

The mermaid lifted a hand from the water and extended a long, bony finger out behind Jax's head. She saw that her hands were webbed with thin layers of green, slimy skin. They had no nails. _I think someone's here to see you._

Jax whirled excitedly, hoping to see Peter, but instead saw a golden light shooting through the air towards her. The fairy came to an expert halt in front of her and babbled a long, stressed string of bells that Jax could barely understand. "Slow down," She said soothingly. "You're not making any sense."

The fairy took as deep a breath as he could and forced himself to speak slowly. _The redskins took your buddy, _he explained. _And now they're preparing this huge bonfire party thing. They're going to roast him alive!_

_What did he say? _The mermaid asked politely, peering around Jax's shoulder to look at the little fairy.

_That's ugly, _the fairy said, making a face when he saw the mermaid.

"They're going to roast Peter alive," Jax explained hurriedly. "Do you know how much time we have?"

The fairy shook his head. _No way of telling. There aren't any guards but the gates are shut, so the only way you could get in-_

"Would be if I was able to fly," Jax finished breathlessly. "You made me fly before, didn't you?"

The fairy made a face. _You were asleep. Anyone can fly when they're asleep._

"What, you don't think I'd be able to fly now?" Jax demanded, trying to sound offended.

_I can try, _the fairy sighed before showering Jax heavily with his magical pixie dust. Her heart thumped with excitement and she conjured up as many happy thoughts as she could, but when she looked down she was still firmly planted to the ground.

_It won't work, _the fairy explained. _Because you think this is a dream._

"Do not!" Jax argued, but she knew it was true. No matter how realistic this all seemed, her brain just couldn't process it all and believe that this was all true. Her shoulders sagged. Peter was going to die, all because of her carelessness.

_I know something else that flies, _the mermaid piped in politely, obviously catching on that Jax needed to fly but couldn't.

"What is it?" She demanded, whirling around to stare at her fishy face again.

The mermaid turned too, extending a finger out to the horizon where the dark silhouette of the _Jolly Roger _bobbed in the distance.

"You've got to be kidding," Jax moaned, shoulders sagging with hopelessness. "We'll never get on board that."

_Actually, _the fairy said slowly. _I've got an idea. It just might work…_


	12. A Boy Called Jack

Starkey steered through the mist cautiously. Following the mini-storm, a stifling fog had descended upon the island. Starkey could barely see the deck, and the only way he knew that the ship wasn't flying was the sound of the water slapping the hull as the ship sliced through the icy water.

He wouldn't, he reflected bitterly, be in this soggy situation if he hadn't pointed out the little figures on the shore to the captain. They had lived for a long time believing that they were the only people on the island, but a little over an hour ago there had been noises coming from the shore, accompanied by little specks that had to be people. So the captain had ordered Starkey to get the ship to shore to investigate. And as if things could get any worse, the figures had been seen on the shores of the Mermaid Lagoon. Starkey's hands trembled at the thought.

"OI!"

Starkey jumped at the sound, jerking the wheel violently to starboard. Hastily righting himself lest one of the other crew members had seen him, he squinted vainly into the fog, attempting to see who had shouted out. His hands trembled again, wondering if maybe it was a mermaid or something trying to lure him into the water to suck the life out of him and eat his arms hole and then-

"HEY! OVER HERE!"

There was a distant splash, and Starkey hesitated. The disembodied voice didn't sound like a girl, but it didn't sound like any of the hardened crew members either. It had to be someone on shore, or even in the water.

"WHO'S THERE?" Starkey bellowed back.

"NEVER MIND WHO!" The voice hollered. "I'M ON MAROONER'S ROCK! THE BLOODY TIDE IS RISING!"

Starkey paused again. There was no way to be sure if it was a mermaid or not unless he actually sailed over to Marooner's Rock to have a look. And even if it was a mermaid, he told himself half-heartedly, there was no way it'd be able to get aboard a big ship like the _Jolly Roger._

"ON MY WAY!" Starkey bellowed shortly, then hesitated once more. "WHICH WAY DID YOU SAY YOU WAS?"

"Uh…" The voice hesitated. "JUST FOLLOW MY VOICE!"

Hoping that at least most of the crew was below deck, Starkey directed the boat towards where he thought the disembodied voice seemed to be coming from. When uncertain of his direction in the shapeless fog, he called out again, and the voice, drawing ever-closer, would reassure him of his direction. As he cautiously progressed, the suffocating fog slowly rose, enough so that he could see the empty deck sprawled before him. Starkey opened his mouth to call out to the stranger again, but the marooned victim beat him to it.

"Hold up, I can practically touch the hull," The voice called out, considerably closer now. Starkey noticed that it had a slight high lilt to it. He wondered how young the stranger was.

"I'll send a rope over," Starkey muttered, hurrying over to the side and, keeping true to his word, tossed a long coil of rope over the side. For a moment, he could only see a few metres of rope before it was swallowed by the fog, but then it suddenly pulled taut and he could hear grunts of effort from somewhere within the mist. Starkey hauled the rope up, fervently hoping he wasn't about to pull a mermaid onto the deck. After a few longer moments of grunting, muttered cursing and heaving, a sodden hand appeared over the side, followed by a bedraggled head and body. With a grunt, the stranger swung a leg over the side. There was a dull _thud _as the momentum from the swing brought the newcomer over the side and onto the deck. Starkey watched with a mixture of amusement and suspicion.

"What you say your name was?" He demanded, scratching his head.

By this point, some of the crew, curious to see what the cause for Starkey's bellowing and their current lack of movement was, were clambering out onto deck and peering curiously at the newcomer.

He was no more than a boy, hardly over fifteen. He was tall and wiry, though not much of his body could be seen beneath his long, wet leather coat. His baggy white shirt had been saved from the water by the coat and Starkey could see a leather belt strapped around his shoulder and the handle of a sword behind his shoulder. His trousers, sporting many tinkering trinkets, were also thick and leathery, his boots made of some sort of hide. His dark brown eyes shone brilliantly beneath a thin, tangled fringe of sodden dark hair. Flyaway whisps of salty hair barely escaped the leather tri-cornered hat squeezed hard down on his head. Every visible inch of his skin was smeared with dirt and, in some places, adorned with thin cuts.

"I didn't," The boy said carefully.

The crew watched expectantly. They had all gathered now, watching curiously.

"So what is your name, then?" Starkey pressed. The boy started, as though he hadn't realised what they asked of him.

"Jackkkkkk," He answered promptly, making a funny choking noise at the last part.

Starkey's jaw sagged stupidly. "Ja… _ckkkkkk_?" He repeated, imitating the choking noise with a confused expression.

"Jack," The boy corrected himself with a hasty cough. "Jack Sparrow."

His teeth were surprisingly white against his dirty face.

Jax could hardly believe that the fairy's crazy plan had actually worked.

Following a quick 'make-up' session, the mermaids had escorted her out to the rock in the lagoon and the one that saved Jax convinced her 'sisters' to keep watch in a vigilant circle around the rock in case the crocodile got any ideas, but Jax had still kept a wary and uneasy eye on the rising water. The croc looked heavy enough to crush all seven mermaids in one go, and after that she didn't particularly fancy her chances of survival. The fairy darted off and returned after a few nerve-wracking minutes with a simple message:

_Now._

Jax had yelled out until she heard a reply. She knew the fairy wouldn't have given her the green light unless an idiot was manning the helm, and sure enough the helmsman appeared to be an idiot enough to comply to Jax's wishes and haul her aboard. The fairy hidden safely under her hat, she stood nervously under the scrutiny of the crew, praying that none of them would recognize her.

"What you say your name was?" The helmsman asked her again, scratching his head and looking rather like a gorilla.

Jax was trying very hard not to laugh at the sight. "I didn't," She replied, trying to keep her voice as even as possible.

The crew continued to gaze at her and for a fearful moment she wondered if they had recognized her. Then the helmsman spoke again: "So what is your name, then?"

Jax could have hit herself in the head. Of course she was meant to reply. "Jackkkk," She said, making an odd choking noise as she caught herself on the last bit. She heard the fairy's muffled tinkling from beneath her hat: _Careful. _Of course he was right: Jax had just come dangerously close to telling the pirates her real name. That wouldn't be so great.

"Ja… _ckkkk_?" The helmsman repeated, looking remarkably like a gorilla again.

This time Jax couldn't resist the grin. "Jack," She corrected herself. Then, on a whim: "Jack Sparrow."

"And where, Jack, did you come from?" The helmsman pressed.

"My ship," Jax replied almost pompously. "The _Black Pearl._"

"And what did you say your position was on said ship?" The helmsman continued. The questions were beginning to unnerve Jax, but she could see from the look on his face that he had no idea she was stealing from a fictional character.

"Ca… cabin boy," Jax said after a pause. She had dearly wanted to reply with 'captain', but even she knew when to draw the line. A fourteen year old captain was hardly believable. Better to just keep it simple, she decided.

The helmsman suddenly roared with unexpected laughter that made Jax flinch. Spittle sprayed her face and she wiped it away in disgust. "Cabin boy, eh?" He grinned nastily. Jax counted at least six silver teeth. "We been looking for one of them."

"Is that so?" said Jax unhappily, pursing her lips as she wiped yet more of the foul pirate's spit away from her face. Her gaze wandered unbidden to where she knew the island to be. Peter's time was running out.

"It'll be the cap'n you'll be wantin' ter see," Another pirate piped up, and with a brisk nod the helmsman gripped her arm and hauled her away harshly, not waiting for her consent. She instinctively readied herself for protest but caught herself just in time.

_Keep your head, _she heard the fairy's faint voice tinkle from beneath her hat, as though reading her thoughts. She disguised the sound with a fake cough.

The helmsman led her below decks and paused in front of a set of closed double doors. He knocked politely, and following a cool, collected call of 'enter', they did indeed enter. Jax swallowed and prepared herself.

The captain's quarters was a dark room, illuminated only by a shabby, flickering chandelier that swung over their heads. A fine oak table was spread with papers and an untouched harpsichord skulked in the corner, half swallowed by shadows. It took a while for Jax's eyes to adjust, but when they did she almost immediately found the dark, hulking silhouette of the feared captain in the shadows. He was sitting at the desk and poring over a book. _Her _book, she realized. She bit her lip angrily when she saw the hole in the cover, but held herself in check.

Ninth looked up and Jax saw his dark eyes roll from the helmsman to Jax, at which point they flickered with curiosity. "And what do we have here, Mister Starkey?"

"Found 'im on Marooner's Rock, sir," Starkey explained dutifully. "Says he's a cabin boy."

Ninth's gaze did not waver from Jax's face and for a petrifying moment she wondered if he could see beneath the layer of hair and muck that hid her face. "And what did he say his name was?"

Perhaps it was her imagination, but Ninth seemed to say the words 'he' and 'his' with a sort of sarcastic tone.

"Jack Sparrow, sir," Starkey replied.

"Thank you, Starkey," Ninth murmured, putting his book in a drawer beneath his desk and resting his chin on his sausage fingers, eyeing Jax with something almost like amusement. Jax swallowed. "That will be all."

Starkey saluted and marched out. Jax stood awkwardly for a moment before Ninth gestured silently for her to sit. She was careful to make sure her every move was distinctly masculine, afraid that his sharp eye would pick up the slightest hint of anything feminine about her.

"So," He said in a voice so soft it was almost a purr. "Tell me, Mister Sparrow. How did you end up on Marooner's Rock?"

Jax's tongue jumped to the most familiar tale she knew. "Mutiny, sir," She explained darkly.

"Mutiny?" Ninth repeated, thick eyebrow shooting up in surprise. "Against a cabin boy?"

Jax shook her head hastily. She had forgotten that. "No, sir," She said hurriedly. "Against our captain, Barbossa. I argued that the mutiny was wrong so they marooned me."

"So basically," Ninth said critically. "You managed to get your ship _here _of all places and then your crewmates marooned you for having a conscience, is that right?"

"'Here of all places'?" Jax repeated innocently. "What do you mean?"

Ninth's eyes narrowed suspiciously, as though only now contemplating that this stranger might be telling the truth. "Do you know where we are?"

Jax looked at the captain as though he were crazy, enjoying this opportunity to patronize him. "We're on a ship, sir."

Ninth shook his head irritably. "Do you know what seas we're sailing?" He pressed, apparently annoyed.

"Blue ones, sir," Jax replied innocently.

Apparently having given up on this useless new young charge, Ninth shook his head again and stood, hands clasped behind his back as he casually swaggered towards her. She had to tip her head back to see him properly. "So tell me, Mr Sparrow," He purred softly. "How is it that you saw the ship when it is barely possible to see five feet in front of oneself in this troublesome fog?"

Jax allowed herself a small moment of satisfaction: she had thought of that while Starkey had made his blind way towards her. "Heard the water on the hull, sir," Jax smiled knowingly, tapping her temple. "Thought there must be a ship nearby so I screamed myself hoarse trying to get its attention."

"And how," Ninth continued, now pacing in circles around her. "Is it that we never noticed you on the rock before?"

"Well, see, at first I was just dropped off on the island," Jax explained. "Hid in the jungle, things went iffy and I thought I might be able to get out here if I got to that ship I always saw in the distance."

"How did you not drown while swimming?" Ninth demanded, eyeing her heavy coat pointedly.

Jax supressed a grin: she had been looking forward to this bit. "Sea turtles, mate," She flashed a grin. "I found two in the water. Weak little fellows, barely alive, but they had enough energy to swim me out to the rock after I strapped them to my feet with some leaves."

"Do you know what lies in these waters?" Ninth continued.

Jax shook her head. "I don't trust water I can't see my own feet in."

"How is it you survived in the jungle?"

Jax felt her fingers twitch with nerves. She had to get this part right. "Met a bloke," She shrugged simply.

Ninth stopped his pacing and paused behind her. "A bloke," He repeated softly. "Man or boy?"

"Boy," Jax agreed. "'Bout my age."

"Normal boy?"

"Nah," Jax snorted, fighting the urge to grin.

"Wonderful boy?"

Jax shrugged, gently toying with an ornament on the desk. "You could say that."

"I give in," Ninth said almost testily. "Who is he?"

Jax shrugged again. "Called himself Peter Pan, sir." She nodded at the desk. "I understand you're looking for him."


	13. Take the Helm, Mr Sparrow

Jax could almost imagine Ninth's ears pricking up sharply in interest.

"Peter Pan, you say?" He said stiffly.

Jax nodded with a careless shrug, moving over to the other side of the desk as she did so. "Well, yeah," She said. "I mean, he said he was Peter Pan. But, I mean, we're all educated English men, aren't we? Everyone knows Peter Pan's not real, right?"

"Did he fly?" Ninth asked, and Jax could tell from his tone that he believed her wholeheartedly.

"Yeah," Jax lied. "But, I mean, I figured I was delirious. Heaps of things would've been flying around and I wouldn't've looked twice."

The huge captain moved with surprising agility for a man of his size; Jax hadn't even seen him move. All she knew was that one moment she had been standing over his desk and the next she was held up by her leather collar and pinned against the wall. Ninth was so close to her face they were almost nose-to-nose, and she could feel his hot breath buffeting against her face. For a moment her eyes widened with fear as she pondered the possibility that he would realize who she was, but she did her best to stay cool.

"If I may, _Mr Sparrow,_" Ninth spat hatefully, though his voice still stayed almost fearfully low. "I have every reason to believe that you are not who you say you are and if you do not co-operate with me I _will _throw you overboard. Tell me, Mr Sparrow, have you ever taken a dip with mermaids before?"

Jax swallowed. So he had his suspicions. "All right, boss man," She said testily. "Have your suspicions. But listen to this: I know a lot that you don't about your Mr Pan, and if you let the fishwomen eat me alive then he'll be dead within the hour and you'll never find him."

Ninth released her suddenly and she dropped to the floor, her legs crumpling under her. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Jax tried to stand up with dignity. "I mean that he's been captured by the redskins," She explained, straightening her hat carefully. "They blame him for the degeneration of the island and they hate his guts. They'll roast him alive if you don't hurry up."

Ninth blinked, apparently surprised by her knowledge. "So you suggest we storm the camp?"

Jax rather liked giving orders to the captain, knowing more than he did. "You won't be able to get in," She explained. "The gate is locked and the only way in is over."

"So we climb," He tried again.

Jax was thoroughly enjoying herself here. "The fences are too high," She continued, waiting to see if the cunning captain would catch on. "You need to get in some other way."

Ninth's eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't waste my time with pointless nonsense," He snarled.

Jax ignored him and stroked the fine wood of the walls thoughtfully. "This ship flies, I hear?"

Comprehension dawned across Ninth's dark face. "We fly it over," He breathed.

"I thought you were smarter than that," Jax muttered to herself before turning her attention back to him. "Yes, that's the idea. But if we don't go now, they'll have roasted him before you know it."

A few moments of silence passed between them before Jax shooed him with her hands. "Better get a move on."

Narrowing his eyes hatefully at his convict's arrogance, Ninth slowly turned and trudged out of the quarters. The door swung shut behind him, but Jax could still hear him barking orders at the crew.

Jax sighed and sagged in his old, grand chair, whipping her hat off her head and letting a lazy, loose black bun flop uselessly by her ear as a golden light struggled to disentangle itself from said bun. He hovered in front of her concernedly.

_You alright? _He asked softly, keeping his tinkling voice to a minimum.

"Fine," Jax whispered back. "I can't believe that actually worked. I thought he had me for a moment there. D'you reckon we'll get to Peter in time?"

The fairy shrugged. _Dunno. This guy doesn't exactly seem half-hearted, he'll probably get this ship quicker in the air than I can fly around the island._

Jax raised a questioning eyebrow. "You've already flown around the island?"

The fairy nodded. _When I was trying to find your hideout to tell Peter you were drowning._

Jax smiled suddenly. "Thanks heaps for that, by the way. I suppose I have a lot to thank you for, eh? I mean, you saved me and it's thanks to you we're on this ship at all. Why'd you come back, anyway?"

The fairy shrugged his thin shoulders. _I overheard what Tiger Lily was going to do to you and I wasn't sure if I should try to help you or not. Then they all came back and worshipped me like I was some sort of God and I figured that that wasn't the life I wanted, hovering over dying babies my entire life. I got away._

"But why?" Jax continued. "You could've gone free. Why did you come back to me?"

The fairy shrugged again. _Well, I figure that you must have been the one to make the baby laugh, so if I had to go anywhere I figured it should be with you._

Jax smiled fleetingly. "That's very sweet of you. You'll win a nice lady fairy one day, believe me."

The fairy's cheeks briefly burned red.

"What's your name, anyway?" Jax asked suddenly. "If you've been given one," She added hastily.

A reddish tinge lingered in the fairy's little cheeks. _Well… The redskins called me Dancing Fire, if that counts._

"Dancing Fire," Jax repeated. "I think I'll just call you Dancer."

Dancer the fairy wrinkled his nose in distaste. _That sounds like a girl's name._

"Or would you rather Edgar?" Jax probed with a mischievous grin.

His cheeks became red once more. _Dancer's fine, _he mumbled, not meeting her eyes.

Before Jax could say anything else, the door opened and Jax promptly slid off the chair and onto the floor. Dancer quickly followed her down and dived into the middle of her bun as she shoved it under her hat once more. Satisfied she was presentable, she poked her head back up over the desk to see who the intruder was.

She did not recognize the pirate, and he looked a little bewildered to see her there too. "Cap'n wants to see you," He mumbled. "On deck. Now."

"Certainly," Jax replied, as though it had been a request rather than a demand. She paused when she noticed the odd look the pirate shot her. "Did you want to say anything else?"

"Was you talking to yourself?" He demanded before he could stop himself.

"Of course I was," Jax snorted, striding past him. "Don't you talk to yourself?"

The pirate remained, dumbstruck, in the doorway. "Well… no."

"Well it'd certainly explain your apparent lack of intelligence."

She heard a faint tinkling of smothered bells from beneath her hat as Dancer tried very hard not to laugh or pass his own snide comment as Jax strode away from the dumbfound pirate. Upon stepping up onto the deck, she noticed an immediate change.

The deck was a hive of bustling activity. Men ran to and fro, shouting orders at each other, scurrying up and down ropes, heaving and hoeing. The sails flapped restlessly as they were adjusted. When she turned, she saw the massive, hulking form of Ninth standing at the helm, supervising the work watchfully, his shoulders and jaw squared with determination. Taking a steadying breath and gently tipping her hat down when she felt Dancer trying to lift it, she strode up to the helm.

"You sent for me?" She said coolly as she approached him, leaning against the side and examining her nails carelessly.

"Take the helm," Ninth grunted emotionlessly, stepping aside and watching her expectantly.

Jax blinked in surprise. "Pardon?"

"If anyone is to lead is to where Pan is, it will be you," Ninth replied menacingly. "Now take the helm."

"With all due respect, sir," Jax said carefully. "I'm just a cabin boy. I was never taught how to steer or nothing."

Ninth's eyes flashed. "You will take the helm," He said quietly. "Or I will interrogate you. Forcefully."

Jax didn't have to be told that he would torture her until she admitted to who she was. With a glare, she strode forward and wrapped her hands around the wheel. Steering couldn't be that hard, after all. This boat was really just a car, but without an engine. And it was made of wood. And it didn't have wheels.

_Positive thinking, Jax, _she reminded herself sarcastically. _Positive thinking._

"I can hardly see anything," She complained, squinting through the heavy fog that still lingered. "How're we meant to find the camp?"

"Once we rise over the cloud cover you should be able to see clearly enough," Ninth replied stiffly, as though he was quite prepared to strangle her the next time she whined about something.

A few awkward minutes of silence passed between them as they watched the deck below. The way Jax saw it, if she could not see where she was going then there was not much point to be seen in attempting to steer the ship anywhere. When Dancer started pulling little strands of her hair out of boredom, Jax attempted to distract both herself and him by making conversation.

"So how d'you get this thing in the air, anyway?" She asked curiously.

"It's all in the sails," He replied, still stiffly. "It doesn't usually take this long… I expect it must be wearing off by now."

Jax's heart gave a little skip of panic and her hand flew to the back of her head as she turned hastily so Ninth couldn't see the back of her head. Pretending she was scratching her head she lifted the back of her head and let the fairy trapped in her tangled her burst free. He darted away before Ninth could see him and Jax waited tensely as he flew briskly around the ship, coating it in dust once more.

After a few gut-wrenching moments, the ship gave an unpleasant lurch and both Jax and Ninth staggered. Jax saw Ninth give her a curious, almost triumphant look from the corner of her eye but pretended she hadn't noticed. She heard the faintest sound of a bell next to her ear and hastily lifted her hat once more, feeling Dancer's little fists crashing into her skull as he tumbled in.

"We're out of the water, cap'n!" A pirate called from the deck.

"Wait until we are above the cloud cover," Ninth instructed her quietly, "And then take us over the camp."

"Aye, aye," Jax replied drily as he stalked down from the helm, joining his crew on deck. Jax now directed her next question to the fairy in her hat: "Any idea how to fly a ship?" She hissed.

_No clue. I know how to fly a fairy, if that helps._

"Oh, immensely," Jax replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. "It can't be that hard, right?"

The ship quickly rose from the water and began soaring through the cloud cover. The crew murmured quietly, admiring their handiwork at getting the ship in the air so quickly, but from the looks that Ninth threw her every so often Jax guessed that he saw right through her.

_Oh well, _she told herself nervously, throat suddenly dry. _If I lead him to the Indian camp he probably won't kill me until he has Peter._

The weak sunlight that finally penetrated the fog as they floated over the cloud cover was by no means bright, but after spending so long in the suffocating fog it almost blinded Jax. Of course, the disadvantage of this was that she could barely see the island from above, but keeping in mind that the Mermaid Lagoon was directly beneath her, she moved her foot almost automatically to press an acceleration pedal of some kind of push her forward.

"Cap'n?" She called down uncertainly. "How exactly do we make this go forward?"

"We have to catch an air current," He told her matter-of-factly. He fell silent for a few moments and licked his finger, holding it in the air and turning it around experimentally. Then: "Forty-five degrees to starboard, Mr Sparrow. Straighten us up as soon as we get on the current."

"Aye aye," Jax murmured again, though her mind was working frantically. When she was sure Ninth wasn't looking, she hissed, "Which way is starboard again?"

_Right, I think, _Dancer tinkled back.

"I'll hold you to it," Jax whispered before spinning the wheel gently to her right. As though the air was a fluid being, the ship did indeed turn but slowly. Jax turned what she thought was roughly forty-five degrees and then watched with bated breath as the ship slowly inched forward until at last, the limp sails suddenly ballooned with air and the ship shot forward. Jax triumphantly righted herself before calling down once more to Ninth.

"What direction is this taking us?" She demanded over the roar of the suddenly whipping wind. The ship was moving quite fast and the sails were flapping wildly.

"To the east side of the island," He replied calmly. His voice was as soft as ever, but still somehow carried over to her.

"We need to get to the west," She bellowed back. "The top of the hill on the west side."

The only reason Jax knew the location of the camp was because it had been a long, steep westerly walk from the hideout to the redskin camp.

The captain paused to think about it. "We'll continue onwards until I say so, at which point I want you to turn hard to port." He addressed the rest of the crew. "You will be prepared to trim the sails when I say so. We have to stop quickly over the savage's camp. You will drop down on ropes and attack. The boy is mine. Make sure you have a clear escape route in case everything goes to shit."

The crew nodded and there was a rippling murmur of 'aye, aye, cap'n' before getting back to work. Jax waited tensely, gripping the handles of the wheel hard. Despite her fear, she had to admit that she was rather excited. It had been every child's dream to captain a ship, and although she was certainly not captaining this one she was at the wheel, and she was _flying _a ship. If she didn't know any better, she would have almost said that she was a bona fide cabin boy who didn't know much of what he was doing. She loved it.

"NOW, MR SPARROW!"

Ninth's sudden roar had startled Jax out of her daydreaming and she spun the wheel hard to the left, catching it when she deemed the ship to have turned enough. They caught another air current and Jax wondered how on earth Ninth had known that there would be a conveniently placed one right there. The ship skimmed across the surface of the stifling mist below them and the wind whipped Jax's messy bangs away from her delighted eyes, her long coat flapping in the wind. She couldn't remember the last time she had had this much fun. She even allowed Dancer to peer out from the hat, but he retreated quickly when the strong wind threatened to tear his wings from his shoulders.

Ninth yelled out again and the crew grunted collectively as they heaved on ropes. The sails almost instantly contracted and the ship came to the nautical equivalent of a skidding halt. For a moment, everyone on deck stood stock still, and then the faint sounds of an apparently large crackling fire met her ears and the taunting jeers and cries of an overjoyed tribe floated up to them. The crowd gathered around Ninth and Jax joined them instinctively.

"Arm yourselves," Ninth murmured quietly. "And attack them. The boy will undoubtedly be tied to something- leave it to me to free him. I will keep him firmly on the ground." He grinned wickedly as he easily swung a cannonball on a chain around suggestively. "As soon as I have the boy, get back on deck."

The crew nodded and scattered, quietly tossing ropes over the side and tying them securely to something while others grabbed swords and all manner of weapons. Jax grabbed a coil of rope and secured it with a useful knot she had once learned at a school camp. Her heart constricted when she felt a huge hand on her shoulder.

"You're not going anywhere," Ninth murmured, baring his teeth in an evil smile. "You'll be staying right here on deck where you can't cause any trouble."

Jax improvised. "I know Pan, sir," She gabbled. "If you get him free, he will fly away before you have enough time to capture him. If he sees me, he'll come with me right away."

Ninth's eyes narrowed as he stared her down before finally nodding stiffly. Jax hastily turned back to her rope and readied herself to leap over and slide down to the ground. As an afterthought, she pulled her long leather sleeves over her hands so as to avoid rope burn, because that had the potential to hurt. A lot.

"On the count of three," Ninth breathed. "One… two…"

_Here we go…_


	14. All We've Got

**A/N: Just saying… The pirate Peter sees going down the ropes really slowly is actually Jax. Just 'cause I think you guys need to know these things XD**

The flames were creeping steadily up the old totem pole Peter was strapped to when he heard a collective roar from above. Tipping his head back as far as he could against the thick wooden pole, he searched the pearly mist over him for the source of the noise. For a few moments he saw nothing, but then he noticed misshapen shadows forming in the mist above him, growing steadily stronger and stronger about the outlines until he could make out the silhouettes of big men sliding down ropes.

_Pirates_, he realized. _But how do they know…?_

A movement to his left caught his eye and he snapped his head around. Another pirate, it seemed, was lowering himself down to the camp- or, rather, trying to. He slid down at random intervals, stopping and starting and generally not looking too sure of himself. Peter would have laughed if the flames were not, by this point, tickling his feet. The first of many burns began to sear across his bare, dirty soles.

Peter busied himself with rocking back and forth, hoping perhaps to dislodge the totem pole and fall backwards out of the fire while the redskins were still distracted. How he would escape from there he did not yet know, but he found it best not to think too hard about it. He tried not to watch the pirates and the redskins battling below because he knew who would win, and he knew that, just as that last fight between the redskins and the pirates had been, it was horrifically unfair. He also guessed that the fight was once more over him- if Jax was correct, then the pirates were after him, as were the redskins. Either way, the prospect of living on didn't seem too big so Peter was in no rush to go with either of them. Still, the question of how the pirates knew of his whereabouts lingered in the back of his head. The only scenario he could come up with involved Jax betraying him, but surely she wouldn't…

"Peter! _Peter_! Look down here, you dope!"

_Funny, _Peter thought distantly as he looked up at the misty sky and tried to ignore the flames licking his feet. _I can even hear her voice now. I must surely be going mad._

He heard a frustrated sigh. "_Men_," Jax's voice groaned before grunting with an effort of some kind. He heard her say something triumphantly under her breath and then more grunting. He wondered how on earth this related to any thoughts of Jax he may have had at that moment and curiously looked down. He was surprised to see a dirty boy with dark hair wearing the same clothes he had given Jax not so long ago…

"Jax!" He smiled gleefully, temporarily forgetting the death that lingered at his feet. "You came!"

Jax sniffed, her eyes focused on a spot above Peter's head. "Oh, _now _you notice me," She grumbled. "I deserve a bloody… medal for this."

Peter attempted to follow her gaze and realized what the series of grunts from before had been from. Jax had tossed a lasso around the top of the totem pole and was now tugging hard on it, attempting to finish off that what Peter had started. None of the pirates or redskins seemed to object to her efforts, seeing as they were all rather absorbed in the heat of the battle. Jax paused, apparently considering something, then nodded once as though in agreement and scurried around the back of the totem pole. Peter opened his mouth to hurl all sorts of unthinkable insults at her for leaving him to burn, but then he felt himself lurch backwards and realized that Jax was pulling the pole from the back so he wouldn't be crushed on his face when he fell. Unsure of what to do with himself, Peter looked determinedly up at the sky, hoping that Jax would be successful in her attempts to free him and that he would still be able to walk away with two feet. He bent his knees and locked his legs, ankle over ankle, on the other side of the totem pole, trying to avoid the searing pain the flames inflicted upon his feet. He tried to lean back to help Jax's efforts but this wasn't necessarily easy. He waited, ignoring the battle cries below and the blood spilled because of him.

"I think I almost got it," He heard Jax grunt distantly. "Little bit more… Bloody leg… C'_mon_… "

He heard Jax give a hearty tug and felt himself lurch backwards again, but this time the pole didn't swung upright again. It teetered for a few seconds until Peter threw his head back desperately and won over the balance of the totem pole. He fell backwards and heard pirates and redskins alike scatter beneath him. He hit the ground with a hearty thud and cracked his head painfully against the wood as he did so. Jax immediately crouched down and sawed at the ropes with the dagger he had given her. He was free in under a minute and Jax spared no time in making sure he was alright before dragging him out of the campsite, his arm draped over her shoulders. She looked over her shoulder constantly, making sure they were not being followed-

Jax squeaked in surprise when a strong hand darted out and grabbed them, pulling them behind a half-fallen tepee. Peter couldn't help but glare sidelong at Jax and mutter 'Some escape plan,' out of the corner of his mouth when Tiger Lily held them, once more, at spear point.

"Give me reason," She snarled, face and eyes burning with hate. "Not to kill you now."

Jax met her eyes evenly and when she spoke there was no fear in her voice. "Peter and I are the only hope for the island," She said, voice low. "You kill us and the island will stay like this forever. It's my fault the pirates are here right now but I promise I will make it up to you. You will have your island back the way it was."

Tiger Lily's eyes narrowed as she thought it. Her gaze was piercing but Peter did what he could to meet it as bravely as Jax did. Finally, she nodded once. "Two week," She said firmly. "You have two week."

Jax nodded hastily. "Great, whatever. Look, we need to make them believe that we're both dead without actually killing us. Ideas?"

Tiger Lily's hand dived into her animal hide clothes and pulled out a small wooden cylinder with a shard of wood in it as a stopper. "Poison," She explained. "Slows the heart and breath until it nearly unnoticeable."

"It forces the body into almost complete shutdown," Jax breathed, astonished. "Incredible!" Then her eyes narrowed as she glared suspiciously at Tiger Lily again. "And this won't kill us?"

Here Tiger Lily's eyes glinted maliciously. "Not if antidote is given in time."

Peter eyed the cylinder with considerably less zeal. "Promise you'll give us the antidote before the time is up," Peter said quietly.

Tiger Lily turned her nose up indifferently. "I do what I can. Do you want or not?"

Tiger Lily watched them with her black eyes carefully. Peter continued to eye her suspiciously before Jax pulled on his arm and whispered in his ear, "She's all we've got. Come on."

Jax gingerly took the cylinder and carefully unscrewed the wooden stopper. "How much?" She asked, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the poison.

Tiger Lily held up two fingers. "Two drop," She said surely. "No more, no less."

Jax carefully tipped her head up and lifted the wooden vial to her tips and slowly, deliberately tapped it twice. Her eyes widened and she hastily handed the cylinder back to Tiger Lily before her legs crumpled beneath her and she fell to the ground, her eyes staring into the canopy sightlessly. Peter looked at her in horror for a few seconds before turning back to Tiger Lily.

"You have to make it look like you killed us," He babbled quickly. "Lie us out there like we died like everyone else. Cut one of our hands, have the blood on your spear and on us. They have to believe it."

Tiger Lily nodded in sharp irritation: clearly she didn't like taking orders from someone else, let alone a boy who she felt had betrayed her many years ago. She handed him the cylinder and he mimicked Jax's actions, right to the part where he felt his body seize up and his breath catch suddenly in his lungs before he collapsed next to Jax, as lifeless as a real corpse.

xXx

Tiger Lily watched the lifeless bodies of the youths at her feet contemplatively. Should she leave them to die? They deserved it. The girl was a lying cheat, the boy an arrogant good-for-nothing. On the other hand… Tiger Lily knew that the fairy had departed back to its true owner, and that owner appeared to be the girl. The fairy had power, she knew that much. The children were much healthier since its coming, and even if the girl had caused problems she had performed a marvellous miracle. She would let them live for now, she decided. But if two weeks passed and the island was not yet back to normal, she would cut them down quicker than they could blink.

She peered cautiously around the side of the tepee, watching the battle. Her people were holding up marvellously, fighting as valiantly as they had the last time they had faced the pirates. The muscles that remained in her arms flexed as she hurriedly dragged the unconscious girl and her companion out to the fallen totem pole, arranging them artfully so that it appeared as though the girl's leg had been caught under the totem pole as it fell. It would seem that she had cut the boy free and he had been busying himself with freeing her in turn when Tiger Lily had cut them down. She cut each of their palms and spread the blood on her spear and around their bodies before standing back to admire her handiwork for a brief second; she then leapt back into the fray.

No-one saw either Jax or Peter collapse, and no-one saw Tiger Lily arrange their apparent deaths.

xXx

Jax awoke with the horrible feeling that she was being suffocated. Her eyes were dry and stung painfully and she blinked madly, attempting to moisturise her eyeballs once more. Her chest ached and her body throbbed as blood flooded through her veins once more, as per usual. She could not find the strength to sit up and instead spent her time breathing as calmly and slowly as possible through her nose. Her sight was blurry and her memory hazy, but she remembered fragments of shadows flitting around in her mind's eye.

Suddenly a pair of big, dusky eyes blocked out her vision of the pearly mist swirling above her. She blinked once, twice in surprise, waiting for her vision to adjust and her brain to remember who was staring down at her with evident concern. "Are you alright?" A boy's voice asked, strangely raspy, as though it had not been used in a long time.

Jax remembered now. She nodded once weakly, sighing heavily. "Fine," She tried to say, but all that came out was an odd hiss: she had lost her voice. But her lips moved and her eyes appeared to be functioning, so Peter was satisfied.

"Gave us a right scare there," He gushed, relieved that his friend was still alive. "Tiger Lily said you might have had too much of the poison and was going about how nothing could counteract overdose but I suppose your body just reacted differently."

Jax tried to say, "Where you like this when you woke up?" but no sound came out, so instead she just moved her lips very slowly and waited patiently for Peter to understand.

His mouth formed a round 'O' of comprehension when he did. "Yeah," He nodded fervently. "It's awful, isn't it?"

Jax nodded weakly and made to go to sleep, but Peter's dirty fingers peeled her eyelids open again. She looked at him, both quizzical and annoyed. She raised a long thin eyebrow as though to say, "What?"

"Tiger Lily said not to go to sleep," Peter explained, still holding her eyes open. "She said to wait until you're strong enough to at least walk around and talk. She said that your body might be too weak to sleep without actually dying."

Jax sighed a very little sigh and nodded slightly. They spent the next few hours playing an odd game of charades in which Peter and Dancer (who had somehow managed to escape from her hat during her unconsciousness) were able to talk but Jax was not. This became particularly hard when Dancer said something, seeing as Peter relied completely on Jax to tell him what he was saying and Jax was frankly not very good at communicating anything without her voice. Even if Peter was lost in translation, Jax now knew that the pirates had left on Ninth's orders when he had seen their apparently dead bodies. She was also told that Tiger Lily had stuck around long enough to make sure Peter awoke safely before forbidding them from the camp.

"We have fourteen days and fourteen nights, starting from tomorrow," Peter said anxiously. "D'you reckon we can do it?"

Jax smiled and nodded reassuringly before mouthing slowly that she wanted to have a go at walking around. It took a while for him to get the message, but as soon as he did his first suggestion was to let her try to get up first. If she couldn't do that then they should probably let her rest for another few hours. Jax agreed reluctantly and tensed her stomach muscles, making to bend her elbows. Her arms shook violently as they lifted up her torso, but eventually she was sitting up and grinning like a proud idiot at this little achievement. Dancer clapped sarcastically and she shot him a dark look before moving on to standing altogether. She wobbled on her feet but Peter steadied her and eventually she managed to take a few very unstable steps, with Peter holding her hand, of course. Dancer fluttered over and sat down on her shoulder, quite comfortable as Peter and Jax slowly moved towards the jungle and back towards the camp.


	15. Lies

**A/N: Just saying, I was listening to **_**Your Guardian Angel **_**by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus while I wrote this, so if anyone thinks it's fluffy that's why. This isn't supposed to be PeterxJax, but if that's how you want to look at it I don't really care.**

**Just so we're clear.**

Jax's sleep was far from restful.

Night had well and truly fallen by the time they had finally staggered back down to the hideout. Jax barely noticed that there was no longer a pirate stationed there before she slid down her tree. Peter helped her stumble over to his bed, at which point she collapsed, thanking him in a hoarse voice she herself could scarcely hear. Dancer settled himself down in her untidy bun and went to sleep instantly. Peter's snores drifted to her from his hammock not long after and she tried to persuade herself to sleep, but the hours dragged by as she tossed and turned and she eventually came to the conclusion that, seeing as she found herself having to remind herself to breathe, sleep probably wasn't the best option. Moving carefully on her flimsy limbs so as not to wake up Dancer, she shakily stood and tiptoed out of the hideout to open ground. The canopy blocked out whatever light the moon or stars may have provided; Jax could barely see her hand in front of her face. Moving carefully with her arms outstretched, she moved towards her tree and grasped blindly at the branches. It took a painstakingly long time, due both to her cautiousness and weakness, but eventually she had clambered up the tree and above the canopy. She settled back, exhausted, on a branch and watched the empty sky and forest vacantly. Once she had gathered the strength, she tucked her knees closer to her chest and brushed her new, jagged bangs out of her face. Her view now unobstructed, she watched the horizon emptily, swaying slightly where she sat. Her eyes slowly fluttered shut…

_She was back in her bedroom, but it was foreign and unfamiliar. Toys were clustered all over the usually neat floor and a swinging mobile hung above her bed. The normally cream curtains were pale pink and still; the window was closed against the late, dark night. The bookshelf was crammed with fairytales and crude drawings of princesses and castles, not the fat books of fact that were nowadays filed away there. This was the room of a child, not that of Jax Hull._

_Not that this mattered to her much. She was sitting flat on her stomach, her little legs swinging over her head. Her eyelids were itching with tiredness but she forged on regardless. She had to keep reading. It was such a good book- how could she not? _

_But she was very tired… Maybe just a few minutes…_

_When she woke up again, she noticed that the light now streaming in through the window was gold rather than silver. It was morning! But she could not feel the warmth. There was a shadow standing over her. She raised her head and wiped drool away from her chin but was abruptly knocked backwards before she could see her attacker's face. She heard shrill screaming and angry thumping sounds as a foot hit the ground furiously. Tears streamed down her face and she reached for her book as her mother tore it away from her, storming out of the room and slamming and locking the door behind her._

_Jax buried her face in her hands and sobbed…_

Jax woke with an unpleasant lurch. She scrabbled madly in the darkness and grabbed onto a branch, her heart thumping and her stomach flip-flopping as she dangled on one side from her tree branch. Shaking and rattled, she slowly straightened herself, hugging her knees ever tighter as she considered the dream.

Only, it wasn't a dream. It was a memory. A memory she had strived to forget ever since it had happened. She had been reading a fairytale one night, a particularly good one, and had fallen asleep. When her mother returned back from work she had expected to at least have breakfast with her daughter, but when she found Jax sleeping on the floor reading a silly children's book the stress from her work wound her into a rage. She hit her own child in a fit of childish pique and confiscated the book from her. It was time for little Jax to grow up.

Jax remembered what Harriet had said the afternoon of the day she had been kidnapped. Chelsea had taken away all of Jax's playthings and she hadn't said a word- out of fear, most likely. Jax had been right: it wasn't a hatred of fairytales, it was a fear. Fury boiled in her stomach when she thought of her mother's vague face- she had lied to her, all this time. What sort of mother took away their daughter's childhood? Furthermore, what sort of mother hit her own daughter?

Jax's stomach suddenly turned cold when she remembered what book she had been reading. A book with green covers and a gold title.

_Peter Pan._

She sat for a few more minutes in the tree, calming herself, thinking of other things. She would not forget, no, but she certainly didn't want to think about it now. Time dragged on unnoticed and silently, until she felt something tugging at her bun; seconds later, Dancer fluttered down, landing gently on her outstretched fingers. She smiled faintly. "Good morning," She said quietly, glad for a distraction. "Did I wake you up?"

_Yes, _Dancer replied. _What's wrong?_

Jax sighed and looked out at the horizon, eyes glistening with desperation. Something else had been bothering her since she woke up from her dream (which she had decided to keep to herself for now). "What if _this_ is just a dream?" She whispered hoarsely. "What if I'm going insane?"

_Asking one of your own hallucinations if you're insane probably isn't a good place to start, _Dancer pointed out.

Jax chuckled drily. "Too true."

_Why does it concern you, anyway? You've had fun. _Dancer's eyes suddenly flashed with concern. _Haven't you?_

"I don't know," Jax whispered. "This isn't me. I can't fly ships, I can't fight mermaids, I can't escape filthy big crocodiles or Indians or anything like that. It's just not me. This is all just so… _big_. I've never been part of a matter of life and death."

_There's always a first time, _Dancer shrugged. _I think what you really need to do is stop wondering if it's a dream and start asking yourself if it's not._

Jax looked up at him in surprise, her mouth swinging open wordlessly as she gazed into the little fairy's glowing, serious face. She took a breath to say something but sucked it in again, grasping Dancer possessively as the branches below the rustled. She held her breath, knowing that if a pirate had seen her and was coming to take her away she was well and truly screwed-

_Calm your farm, _Dancer grumbled from within the folds of her shirt. _It's only Peter._

He fluttered out from her grasp and glowed brighter, and sure enough his light was enough to illuminate Peter's face enough so that Jax could see it and recognize it. She smiled sheepishly at him and wriggled to the side, making room for him.

"Did I wake you up?" She asked, voice still hoarse and quiet.

Peter shook his head. "Snored loud enough to wake myself up, actually," He admitted. Jax and Dancer both chuckled, though Dancer's mirth was slightly more open. "Panicked a bit when I noticed you weren't there but I could see Dancer up here so here we are."

Jax nodded a few times and they lapsed into silence, watching the horizon wordlessly as the sky slowly began to glow a half-hearted pink. After a long silence, he finally spoke: "What kept you up?"

"Kept forgetting to breathe," Jax admitted. Neither fairy nor boy smirked or laughed at this. "I couldn't sleep. You know, in case I died."

Peter flinched slightly. "We can't have that," He said softly. "I'd have no-one to teach me how to fly!"

Jax smiled a little and silence fell again. This time it was Peter's turn to break the silence:

"What will you do after you teach me how to fly?" He asked curiously, watching the steadily rising sun with little expression.

Jax shrugged. She couldn't bring herself to tell him that this was scarcely more than a dream. "Go home, I suppose," She said. "I mean, I've still got an assignment to hand in," She half-laughed. Her smile faded as she watched the sun slowly struggle upwards. "And someone's waiting for me."

Peter smirked and looked away, his eyes riddled with sadness. "To your mother, yes?" He snorted cynically.

Jax barked a short, harsh laugh. "Yeah right," She chuckled. "I wouldn't be surprised if she's replaced me already. No, she's not my mother. She's… my friend." Jax had given up on trying to explain to concept of a maid to Peter, and over the years she had stopped looking at Harriet as a maid and more of her best friend. The concept of adults and friendship would be lost on Peter. She didn't try to pursue the subject. "You were replaced too, weren't you?" She said suddenly, looking at Peter intently.

He nodded sorrowfully. "Mothers are all the same," He said quietly. "If you're not good enough, there's always something better."

Jax nodded sympathetically. "My mum replaced me with her job," She explained. "She was always too busy to even look at me."

Peter laughed quietly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm surprised you didn't come to Neverland quicker," He admitted. "You could have been a Lost Girl."

"I probably would've," Jax reflected. "Except…" She sighed. "My mother replaced my childhood, too."

Peter's eyebrows furrowed. "With what?"

Jax sighed again. "Fact," She said shortly, and left it at that.

Silence settled once more, but this time it wasn't broken. They watched the sun continue its ongoing struggle to haul itself up into the deadened sky, and when at last it decided it could go no higher Jax suddenly slumped on Peter's shoulder. For a moment, he panicked, but then he looked down at her slowly rising and falling shoulders and realized that she was, at long last, sleeping. Peter chuckled and patted her shoulder fondly.

"Goodnight, Jax."


	16. Reaction

Jax's eyes fluttered drowsily open and were swiftly blinded by faintly twinkling lights. She snuggled closer into her bed, temporarily forgetting where she was until a flurry of bells met her ears.

She started into proper consciousness with a violent jerk that threatened to throw her off Peter's bed. She swiped her rough cut fringe away from her face as she sat up, her leg throbbing with a now-familiar pain.

"I'm up!" She announced, flustered and dazed. "I'm up."

Peter seemed to have already figured this out; he was watching her quizzically, cheek swollen with a half-chewed mouthful of banana. "About time," he mumbled thickly, spraying a sodden gob of banana on Dancer. His normally golden light shone scarlet in his rage and he unleashed a long string of expletives Jax wouldn't care to translate. With a final angry bell he hurled the blob of food off him and darted behind the moth-eaten curtain that fell across Tinker Bell's old bedroom. Peter followed is progress through the air hatefully.

"How long have I been asleep?" Jax asked, yawning and stretching as she did so.

"Two days," Peter replied after a pause, dragging his gaze away from Dancer with apparent difficulty.

Jax felt a heavy ball drop in her stomach. "Oh, Peter, I'm so _sorry_!" She gushed. "I haven't been able to teach you, you should've woken me up-"

Peter shook his head. "You deserved to sleep," he said with a shrug. "You've been pretty busy."

"We'll get started as soon as we've eaten," Jax said decisively, apparently oblivious to this last comment. "We've not got as much time as we did before because of me so we've got to get going."

Peter smiled fleetingly. "Yes ma'am."

They ate their bland breakfast in silence, though Jax noticed his eyes constantly wandering over to the little hole in the wall where Peter's best friend had once slept. After forcing a particularly dry mouthful of banana down her throat, Jax's curiosity finally got the best of her.

"Did I miss something?" She wanted to know, eyebrows raised.

Peter shook his head hastily and turned away. Jax saw his face redden as he stared down at his food stubbornly. Dancer's head appeared from beyond the curtain, a bored expression engraved on his face.

_I had nowhere to sleep so I went in here and now he's mad at me for using it, _he informed her flatly.

Jax only had to look at Peter's forlorn face for a moment to make her decision. "Get out, you can sleep perfectly well in my hair. Don't be so greedy," she quipped. Dancer sighed and rolled his little eyes but obliged, fluttering obediently onto her shoulder where he abruptly sat down. Peter offered her a little grateful smile before wolfing down the rest of his breakfast, as eager as he ever had been. Jax followed a it more slowly, limping across the room to her tree and finally up to open ground. Peter was waiting for her and now that she had joined him he gazed at her with fervent expectation. Even though it had been the most concrete part of their plan over the past three- five, if she counted the two she had spent sleeping- Jax was only now considering how she was going to teach him how to fly.

"Um… OK," Jax cleared her throat awkwardly. She paused again for a while before she remembered something she had seen in a movie she had unwillingly been taken to see a few years ago. It involved a boy who was a wizard and needed to learn some sort of spell that required a happy memory. Not quite Jax's cup of tea, but it was perfect.

"Close your eyes," she intoned softly. Peter obeyed. "Think of your happiest memory. Something powerful. Concentrate on it. Let it fill you up. Don't think about anything else. Detach yourself and just concentrate on the memory. Focus."

She fell silent again and watched Peter, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling slowly. The silence stretched on for a minute.

"Have you got it?" She asked softly. Peter nodded very slowly. "Don't open your eyes. Keep concentrating. Don't let it go."

She inclined her head at Dancer, not taking her eyes off Peter. The fairy obediently darted over to Peter and, careful not to distract him, flew in an upward spiral around his body, coating him in shimmering dust. Tense silence followed. A minute passed, then two. Jax sighed, releasing a breath she hadn't even been aware of holding.

"Let it go," She instructed, speaking normally again. Peter's eyes snapped open and he looked eagerly down at his dirty feet. His shoulders sagged with he saw that they were still firmly planted to the ground.

"Why didn't it work?" He demanded angrily, kicking a dejected tree stump and yelping pitifully when this only resulted in a stabbing pain in his toe.

"What memory did you use?" Jax asked wearily, anticipating the answer.

"When I killed Hook," Peter replied. "And the look on Wendy and them's faces when I saved them."

"Well then of course it didn't work!" Jax cried in exasperation, sitting down in the grass. Her bad leg was making her irate. "I told you, Peter, you have to let them go."

"And I told you that I can't!" Peter snapped suddenly. "It's not that easy. You have no idea-"

"I beg to differ," Jax snapped back, swaying gently as a strong wave of pain radiated from her leg. The dizziness made her eyes flutter for a moment, but she fought to kept them open. "_You _haven't a single clue what's at stake here, and if you do you pretend otherwise. We'll both be killed if you don't start making an effort, Peter. _You have to forget about them_."

"Who are you to assume it's that easy?" Peter demanded, looming over her angrily. "You barely even know me, how can you say-"

"I know you, Peter," Jax interrupted heatedly. "Hundreds of people around the world know you, Peter. There's a reason Ninth only found out about you after I came here, a reason I don't think you're real. There is a book, Peter, several of them, about _you _and the Darlings. _That's _how I know how to fly, _that's _how I know what you've been through and _that's _how I know you're a true child at heart. I know what you're capable of, Peter, and I'm not going to sit back and let us both be killed because you're not willing to sacrifice a little bit to unleash your potential."

Peter fell silent, staring her down uncertainly for a while until his eyes finally softened and he looked away, sadness written across his face. When he turned back to speak to Jax again, he saw that she was now lying on her side, one arm tightly wrapped around her stomach, her face contorted in pain. Peter dropped to his knees beside her instantly and Dancer buzzed next to his ear concernedly.

"Jax? Jax, can you hear me?" Peter asked desperately. "What's wrong?"

"It's… fine," Jax grunted, trying to sit up. Peter forced her down again abruptly.

"No, you're not," He said flatly. "Don't move, I'll get-"

Peter didn't get to finish that sentence, because at that moment Jax began vomiting violently. He sprang out of the way of the foul projectile hurtling towards him and crouched at her back, holding her trembling shoulders firmly and watching her in desperation, unsure of what to do. Finally, he looked up at Dancer with round, pleading eyes.

"Go to the tribe," He instructed. "Get the village doctor or whatever they have. Get them down here as quick as possible."

Dancer lingered, reluctant to leave Jax, but with a harsh order of "GO!" from Peter he eventually flew off, leaving Peter alone with the vomiting Jax.

They waited there for a while, Jax sometimes vomiting, sometimes not. She shook and sweated violently, her skin paler than the sand on the beach. More often than not she was unconscious and Peter had to keep moving her body so she could breathe beyond the rising pool of vomit around her. She moaned and coughed and at one point her nose began bleeding before Peter stuffed her nostrils with a scrap of his rags. He was swiftly running out of materials when Dancer finally reappeared, leading an old, withered woman and Tiger Lily. The latter looked torn between distaste and anxiety, whilst the old woman just looked resigned. She kneeled next to Jax and gently moved her away from Peter, dragging her to a fresh patch of grass where she kneeled over her and muttered to herself, looking Jax up and down and emptying out a leather bag onto the grass. She spoke to Tiger Lily in the native language, and she replied. The old woman nodded and spoke again. The conversation went on for a while, with Peter and Dancer lingering awkwardly and tensely on the sidelines, waiting for results. At long last, the old woman grunted, nodded once and turned back to Jax. Her hands moved quickly for such old age as they moved back and forth between the contents of her bag and Jax's body. Peter sidled awkwardly over to Tiger Lily and whispered, "What did you tell her?"

"What she been through past days," Tiger Lily said shortly, not looking at Peter. "About kidnapping, crocodile, trekking through jungle, meeting my tribe, mermaids, pirates and poison. Springing Snake say that Jax body not like poison. Body trying to get rid of poison."

Peter was bewildered. "How did you know that?" he whispered, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the doctor lady. "About the kidnapping and all that?"

Tiger Lily flashed a brief smile. "She telled me."

Peter nodded once and detached himself from the conversation, shuffling back over to Dancer again where he waited, trying to look casual and keep his eyes from looking over at Jax so constantly. Finally, the woman turned and grunted again at Tiger Lily. The chief turned to Peter, expression blank.

"Jax be fine. She now tending to leg."

Peter's shoulders slumped with relief and Dancer sighed, letting himself relax in Peter's hair. Now satisfied that Jax would be alright, Peter settled himself down in the grass, watching on almost happily as the old woman took Jax's make-shift bandage away from her leg and foot, tutting quietly to herself as she doused it with ointments and replaced the pyjama leg with her own special bandage. At long last, she packed up her things and straightened, grunt-clicking something to Tiger Lily. She listened before nodding once and turning to Peter once more.

"Jax be fine," She repeated. "But she need rest. Lot of it. Do not let her leave bed for three day and give her little bit of these every day." Tiger Lily handed him two bottles. "She need to be fed and watered well and clean leg twice day. You are permitted to come to camp if she need help again."

Peter smiled gratefully. "Tell her I say thank you."

Tiger Lily snorted twice shortly and then clicked loudly with her tongue. The old woman's wizened face crinkled in a smile and she nodded at Peter, who beamed back fleetingly. The two redskin women departed, melting into the jungle. Peter started slinging Jax's limp arm over his shoulders, but Dancer caught him and shook his little head, instead gesturing to himself and flying once around Jax's body. As the dust sank into her skin, she began floating. Peter only just managed to grab her wrist before she floated up into the sky. He gently led her down her tree and deposited her lightly on his bed before collapsing in his own hammock. He lay there for a few minutes before Dancer told him that he should get some food and water for Jax. With a little bit of staged grumbling, Peter complied.

_Girls aren't very good at staying alive, _he mused as he shot out of his tree. _Especially not Jax._


	17. Moving Along

Jax slept for another three days, and after she properly regained consciousness she was instructed not to move if she could help it. As far as Tiger Lily's instructions went, this was just as well because Jax found herself mysteriously paralysed. Having realized this, Peter dashed up to the camp to see if something was wrong but was sent away with the comfort of knowing that the medicine would immobilize her for two days after consciousness to ensure that she recovered properly. So for two days Jax could only stare blankly at the roof as Peter fed her and cleaned her wounds and poured all manner of disgusting medicines down her throat, all the while painfully aware that every hour she spent motionless on Peter's bed was another hour wasted. Sometimes, when she strained her eyes very far (her eyes and eyelids seemed to be the only part of her body allowed to move) she could see Peter sitting in a quiet corner, breathing very slowly with his eyes closed. His forehead constantly creased with concentration and every now and again he was sprayed in a golden shower from Dancer, but still nothing happened. Jax wondered if he was even trying to forget.

As unhelpful as Jax's immobility was, it also gave her time to reflect on what had now become a week in Neverland. That is, if she believed it to be Neverland. She had considered Dancer's words and, during her 'alone time' had replayed every single moment of the last week in her mind. The more she considered it, the less likely it became that the terrifying clarity in which she saw everything could have been part of a dream, but she still heard a little nagging voice in the back of her head, reminding her that mermaids weren't real and that ships did not fly and that fairies did not exist and that it would be fruitless to teach a boy how to fly because they simply couldn't. For two days, she had a constant war with herself over whether or not the immobility she felt was real or not, if the bed she lay in was real or not, if the tree hollow she had been living in even existed. She spent two days that seemed to drag on forever thinking about this, until she finally scared herself away from the idea by wondering if continually feeding her mind on this particular spiel would drive her mad. As the sun set on the second day of her immobility, she promised herself that she would not think of it again and just live in the moment until she had to make the decision about whether or not this was real.

She knew she was able to move when she woke up because her tongue had been lolling out of her previously immobile mouth (Peter had been forced to negotiate its movements for her while she was paralysed). She moved everything that could be moved very slowly and usually painfully, but once she had worked out the kinks she found herself bursting with five days' worth of energy. She sprung across the room and shook Peter awake before bouncing off to their new pantry and unpacking yet another meagre breakfast. Peter slouched over to the table, rubbing his eyes and yawning and generally complaining about this rude awakening, but Jax was too buzzed to really care much.

She ate quickly, quicker than she ever had, and was still hungry. She gladly accepted what Peter could not eat before dragging him above ground, determined to make sure he soared like an eagle in the short week they had left to them before Tiger Lily's all too literal deadline.

The morning passed predictably fruitlessly. Peter got his hopes up every single time and claimed that he thought he felt something, but Jax knew it was all just wishful thinking. Hope wasn't the same as joy. And Peter's memories were never really joyous anymore; they were tainted with the bitterness that Wendy and the Lost Boys' absence had left behind for him. He felt cheated and wronged. Jax's patience was fuelled on by her energy, and she was starving by lunch time. Some ointment was dabbed on her leg wounds and were wrapped in new woven bandages, and once again she was the first to leap back up to the surface. Peter followed wearily, not wanting to continue. Jax saw him and for the first time all day she paused and contemplated him, how worn down and hopeless he looked. Taking a moment to calm herself, she took a deep breath and smiled.

"I know I've told you a thousand times," She said gently. "But the fact still remains that you need to forget them." 'Them' being the Darlings and the Lost Boys. "But maybe there's another way to do it," She added quickly, seeing the look on Peter's face. "Is there some other happy memory you have that doesn't involve them? Or Tink," She added pointedly.

Peter paused, then said. "Well… The first time I met you, I got this warm sort of feeling… You know, just knowing that I had a friend again. I've been by myself for a while."

Jax beamed. "That's very nice of you, Peter. Just try using that. Focus on it… Yes, you know the drill. Make sure you're focused on nothing else. Nod when you're ready."

It took a while for Peter to properly visualise it this time, and Jax waited patiently. Finally, he nodded, almost imperceptibly. On cue, Dancer dashed off and lazily coated him in shining dust. Jax waited, watching his dirty feet carefully…

Peter did not flicker as his heels lifted from the deadened grass. Slowly, painfully, his feet lifted off until his toes just brushed the many heads of the grass blades. Jax exhaled in wonderment and looked up to see his face serene and relaxed. She laughed, hardly believing what she was seeing as Peter's toes slowly became level with her eyes.

"You're doing it!" She cried. "Peter, you're doing it, you're flying!"

Peter's eyes flew open and he looked down, whooping in delight when he saw Jax's upturned face some way below. With an elated cry, he threw his weight backwards, tumbling through the air. He was rising faster now, and began experimenting with steering. Jax knew as soon as he started flying in circles around her head, grinning like an idiot, that he had always known how to fly; he had just temporarily forgotten.

And yet… something wasn't quite right. The smile slowly slipped from Jax's face as she looked into Peter's, for his eyes were not as ablaze as she would have imagined them to be. In fact, upon closer inspection, they looked as dull as they ever had. Peter noticed her concerned expression and paused in the air, now only a few feet above the ground. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off as he suddenly fell promptly to the ground, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Jax sighed and joined him on the ground, energy suddenly drained.

"What happened?" Peter demanded, looking at his hands as though they had greatly wronged him. "I was doing it, I was flying…"

"Happy thoughts make you fly," Jax said wearily. "But sad ones bring you down. What were you thinking about just before you fell?"

"I didn't mean to," Peter mumbled. "It was just the look on your face… Wendy used to look at me that way when I hadn't taken my medicine, it was nothing, it won't happen again-"

"It's not good enough," Jax said bluntly, forcing herself to look into Peter's shocked, hurt eyes. "You can't just substitute Wendy with me, it won't work. You have to forget them completely. It's the only way. I'm sorry."

Peter fell silent. Jax could see the shame carved in his face, even as he turned away from her. They sat together silently in the grass (which had mysteriously become much greener since Jax had thrown up all over most of it) for a while, before Peter tentatively turned to face her again.

"Well, um, you know, Jax," he began, watching her very carefully as though she might eat his head. "I've been thinking… Teasing the pirates always made me really happy."

Jax groaned in frustration. "Did you _listen _to anything I just said?" she demanded exasperatedly. "You can't just _substitute _them, you've got-"

"To forget them, I know," Peter finished unhappily. "But maybe this might help me forget. I mean, if we just-"

"No," Jax said firmly. "You haven't seen Ninth."

"Yes I have," Peter said defensively. "When we spied on them through the trees. Remember?"

Jax rolled her eyes. "OK, you've seen him, but you don't know him."

"Neither do you."

Jax gritted her teeth. "No, but I know him more than you do," she said restrainedly. "He's ruthless. He makes Hook, even Blackbeard, look like a little kitten. The man is vicious, he's not like Hook. Plus, you can't fly, and that was your major advantage. The long and short of it is that we'll both die."

"_Please_, Jax?" Peter begged. He leaned in close and widened his grey eyes innocently. Jax sniffed and turned away. "We've only got a week left, and if we can't figure it out we'll die anyway. Can't we just try?"

Jax fell silent for a very long time, mulling it over. Peter waited, watching her unblinkingly. She was having an internal war, he knew it: the question was, which side would win? Would she let him go or not?

Peter's questions were soon answered. "Fine," Jax said tightly, and Peter crowed in delight. "_But_-"

"There's always a 'but'," Peter muttered to himself.

Jax shot him a sidelong glare. "But only as long as we plan _everything _out and have an escape route for every single situation we might find ourselves in. And it would help if you could fly a little bit by the time we do it."

Peter threw his dirty arms around Jax's leather-clad shoulders. "Thank you, Jax!"

"You're happy now," Jax said darkly in response. "But you'll get no thanks from me when we're dead."


	18. What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

**A/N: Bit of nonsense in here… I just felt like having a loose/fun moment. Plus I watched **_**Glee **_**for the first time today and it kind of got to me P: (There's no singing or dancing in this chapter, btw. It was the one with the Alcohol Awareness Week… My mind works in twisted ways.)**

Jax blew out her cheeks and sat back in her chair, knocking her tri-cornered hat (which she had grown quite fond of) back a little. She couldn't procrastinate much longer; Peter had kept true to the conditions Jax had set. For the past four and a half days they had been cooped up underground, outlining their plan and reciting it to perfection. Late at night they would sneak above ground and continue Peter's flying training. He was getting better, but he rarely rose more than a few feet above the ground, and he couldn't yet do it without Dancer's aid. But it was everything Jax had asked for: a well-detailed plan and a boy who could semi-fly. She could restrain him no longer. They would have to go.

It was lucky that Peter returned not long after, before Jax could change her mind. He was dragging a rather sad-looking wolf behind him, and even though its death was certainly a bad thing Jax could not help but to rejoice a little. She imagined the meat would be stringy and as tasteless as the bananas and coconuts they had been living off, but meat was meat, and Jax hadn't had meat for a very long time. Peter set about the business of preparing it for eating; Jax averted her eyes for this, reminding him that it was his job to clean up the mess. Eventually the deed was done and they sat around a small fire, roasting bits of skinny wolf over it.

"We've done everything we can," Jax said with a sigh, lying down on her back and gazing at the earthen roof. "We'll go tomorrow."

Peter was delighted by this news and gave a joyful cry. Jax exchanged a look with Dancer but said nothing; the fairy was just as uneasy about the plan as she was. Idle chatter ensued until finally Peter dished out slabs of stringy meat. Dancer, who was vegetarian, nibbled on some dry leaves and cast the meat-eaters beside him dark looks. The meat was not quite as good as what Jax was used to, but the taste of it on her tongue and Peter's optimism soon lifted her moods. In a few moments, the moody Jax who had lingered for the past few days disappeared in the warm fire and in the company of her friends. Though they drank only water, it may well have been wine with the way they carried on as the night drew on- laughing and stumbling and tripping and generally making a mess of themselves. Peter kicked off a spectacular contest to see who could belch the loudest; Dancer managed a quiet squeak that somehow had the power to blast him backwards off the table (he did not share in Jax and Peter's mirth). After that it was a straight out battle between Peter and Jax, and from that day onwards Jax would proclaim that she had won while Peter would naturally say that _he _was the true winner.

At around midnight, Jax raised her little coconut cup. "Here's to Peter," she hiccupped. "The boy who flew."

"And to Jax!" Peter roared, "The girl who taught me how."

They grinned at each other before Dancer sarcastically raised his own tiny acorn cup. _And here's to Dancer, _he said lamely. _Without whom neither of you would be here._

Jax laughed and translated for Peter, who chuckled and shook his head. Eventually their eyes sagged with tiredness; Jax was the first to slump, right on Peter's lap. Dancer sleepily perched himself in her bun and after a while Peter surrendered himself to sleep too.

xXx

Several hours later, huddled under the wide leaves of the bushes fringing the sand, Jax rubbed her face wearily. They had been watching the horizon for hours, convinced the smoke they had sent spiralling into the sky would attract the attention of the pirates sooner or later. Peter could only manage hovering a few feet about the ground before he fell, so they couldn't risk him falling into the sea or dropping at a crucial moment, so therefore the ship had to come to them.

So far, it wasn't coming, and the sky was getting blacker with every passing minute. If Jax was superstitious, which she wasn't, she would say that that was probably a bad omen. All she really thought was that if it rained she was calling it off and would resign herself to vicious death from the redskins while Peter and Dancer hovered about their improvised draughts board, drawn in the dirt.

Without apparent cause or reason, the face of Harriet rise unbidden in her head. Sweet little Harriet with her shuffling steps and wizened face and wide smile. What was she doing now? If this was a dream, very little time would have passed back in London and Harriet could well be preparing breakfast. If this _wasn't _a dream… Jax's stomach twisted and she imagined Harriet sitting alone in a corner with no purpose, no charge to take care of with her tight bun in disarray and just waiting by the window, waiting for Jax to fly in and crawl into bed like nothing had happened…

In fact, the more Jax thought about it, the less she could remember the maid's face. Or her voice. Or her clothes. Or even her name…

"What have I done?" Jax breathed, shoulders sagging.

"Sorry?" Peter's eyebrows furrowed as he carefully placed his little strip of bark on one of the squares in the grid drawn in the dirt.

Jax shook her head. What would Peter understand about it? He hated grown-ups. She couldn't risk him having negative thoughts now. "Nothing. Can you see the ship yet?"

_I win_, Dancer told said as he fluttered above Peter's head, squinting at the horizon.

"Dancer says he won," Jax said automatically. Peter's head whirled back around and he studied the board for a few moments before grunting dismissively.

"It's a rubbish game anyway," he grumbled, shifting away from the board to Jax's side. She smiled to herself before resuming her watch.

Seconds stretched to minutes, which seemed to drag on forever. Finally, just as Jax opened her mouth to suggest they light another, much bigger fire, Peter gave a most unmanly squeal of excitement and pointed enthusiastically at the horizon.

"I see it, I see it! It's coming!"

Jax blew out her cheeks. This was it, then. She sprang to her feet and ran deeper into the jungle (she was getting better at negotiating the thick plants) to light that bigger fire she had been thinking about to make them sail that bloody big boat faster. She had just disappeared from sight when she heard an urgent hiss tugging her back. She poked her head out from behind the thick curtain of vines and looked at Peter questioningly.

Silently, he pointed at the horizon. She followed his dirty finger and saw that the ship was moving much quicker than what was normal; in fact, it wasn't normal at all. The ship was making good use of its ability and was flying across the dark water, speeding towards the bay. Jax crawled out and settled down on her haunches next to Peter. They watched the ship's progress in tense silence, prepared to spring. The effects of the fairydust shower from a few days previously was wearing off; the ship occasionally dipped into the crest of the small waves, only to weakly struggle back upwards again a few seconds later. They had just entered the bay when the dust failed it altogether and it dropped with an almighty splash. Jax cursed; they had been counting on attacking the pirates on land, where they were out of their element. They had just lost their major advantage- Jax knew from experience that it was rather difficult to keep one's balance when returning to land after a long time at sea. Now they would be the ungainly ones, swaying back and forth on the deck of the enchanted ship.

Peter and Jax exchanged a look. The ship was still drawing closer, though it was moving rather slowly. Their eyes locked for a moment and Peter nodded imperceptibly. Jax sighed and nodded reluctantly, tensing her legs. She heard the faint bells as Dancer showered Peter with golden dust and turned to Peter one last time. His face was pale and drawn, but determined. He nodded.

"One… two… three."

They sprang from the bushes, Peter kicking powerfully into the air. Jax's legs pumped along behind as fast as they could and dived headfirst into the icy black water, into the strong hands of the mermaids. Peter's shadow flitted overhead and occasionally his toe would dip into the water and brush Jax's flailing hair. The water slid past her as the mermaid's powerful tails propelled her forward, hopefully too fast for the crocodile to catch.

Not fast enough, apparently. Out of the blue, a blinding pain in Jax's arm. She screamed and her air ballooned to the surface in the form of fat bubbles. The mermaids shrieked in anger and stopped, whirling to face their attacked with spears raised protectively. The crocodile knocked them away easily, searching only for the blood that now leaked and mixed with the water from Jax's arm. She fought to stay awake and somehow her hand found its way to her dagger. The croc drew near, opening its mighty maw to swallow her whole. Knowing full well the risk she ran, Jax swung her injured arm with as much strength as she could muster into the roof of the crocodile's mouth.

It roared unhappily and tore away from her, leaving her with only the hilt of the dagger in her hand. The crocodile's blood and hers mingled in the water, swirling together. With an angry roar it propelled itself forward again, but was interrupted once more by an angry prod in the tail from the mermaid that had saved Jax's life. It spun around to eat the mermaid and then twisted around again when Jax paddled weakly forward and sank the tip of her bone dagger into the crocodile's scaly hide.

It was all she could manage. With a weak cough, her last bubble of air escaped her and she sank.


	19. Everything Goes Wrong

**A/N: I am on a ROLL! As I may have told one or two of you, I am really pumped to write an Aladdin fanfic but I've promised myself not to write it until I've finished this, so that's my new motivation :D We've got a good five or six chapters left, most of which I've already planned out :) Glad you all seem to be having so much fun reading this, this is one of my least popular stories so it's great to see that some people are enjoying it :D**

Jax's lips were the first to emerge from the water, swiftly followed by her face. She gasped for air and shook her wet hair out of her face as she gagged for air. Her blood swirled around her in the water and the salt water stung her wound. She gritted her teeth and ignored it, looking in the skies for Peter and at the horizon for the ship. Peter had not noticed the attack and was still making unsteady flight to the ship, which remained where it was.

The mermaid that had saved Jax's life the first time surfaced beside her. Her green forehead was rankled in a way that suggested worry, and if she had eyebrows Jax would sure they would be furrowed with concern.

_Are you alright? _Her voice gushed in her head. Jax repressed a shudder as the clammy, nail-less hands pressed her wet cheeks fretfully. Jax pushed them away.

"I'm fine," she replied. "Where's the croc?"

_We chased him off for now, _she replied. _Is your arm alright?_

"Fine," Jax said again. "Just make sure Peter doesn't see. Make sure we catch up."

The mermaid nodded and Jax flinched involuntarily as another pair of hands wrapped a seaweed bandage around her arm. The job was done and they set off again, making double-time so Jax could catch up. They reached the hull of the ship and one of the mermaids emitted a long, low sound. A rope was thrown over the side and with a smile of thanks to the mermaids Jax took hold of it and started climbing. She gritted her teeth against the pain that flared in her arm and leg and fought against it. She paused halfway up and grabbed her bone dagger from her belt, holding it between her teeth. Best to be armed when going into enemy territory.

She swung her legs over the side just as she had done not so long ago and stood at the ready, dagger in her hand. She stood in a battle stance and surveyed…

An empty deck. There was no-one there. Eyebrows furrowed, Jax tipped her head up and saw only Peter's shadow and Dancer's twinkling light flickering behind a sail. She whistled once and Dancer darted down to her side while Peter gracefully loped from one beam to another. Jax took this to mean he could no longer fly, but seeing as they were attempting to attack a crewless ship this probably wouldn't matter.

"Where is everyone?" she demanded, keeping her voice in a whisper. "Someone had to have been flying the ship."

Peter looked uneasy. "I know, but I haven't seen anyone," he replied. "I thought you'd be able to shed some light on the situation."

"Dancer," Jax said. "Fly around the island. See if you can find the crew."

Dancer gave a little mock salute and darted off, leaving only a trail of dwindling stars behind him. Jax didn't wait to watch him go and instead dragged Peter down to his knees. They ducked quietly on the deck. "Just in case," she whispered in explanation.

Peter nodded. "What d'you reckon happened?"

Jax bit her lip anxiously. "I don't know… Someone obviously had to be flying the ship, but I didn't see any lights through windows or anything. And if there's someone here we should be fighting or dead by now."

"Scratch the dead part," Peter muttered. "Plan's fool proof, remember?"

"Fool-proof," Jax murmured. "But what about moron-proof?"

Peter didn't have time to point out that they were the same thing when Dancer returned, gasping for air. He spoke quickly in Jax's ear between gasps for air: _Most of the… crew are on… other side of… island…_

"The other side?" Jax repeated. "But the fire…"

Dancer shrugged hopelessly. _Damned if I-_

At that moment Peter's eyes widened in horror and he opened his mouth to give a cry of warning, but it was too late. The floppy red beanie swooped down upon Dancer and trapped him. Jax whirled around and saw Smee, shuffling away apologetically with a wriggling red beanie in his hands. He tipped Dancer out inside a small glass lantern and slammed the door shut, muffling Dancer's long string of curses. With a snarl Jax lunged at the red-faced First Mate, dagger aloft, and Peter gave a little croak of warning but it was too late. A strong arm shot out and thick fingers wrapped around Jax's wrist, yanking her back and lifting her high. She swung there, struck dumb for a few moments, before she slowly spun around to face her attacker.

"Welcome back, Mr Sparrow," Ninth's soft, give-away voice said. His sharp teeth twinkled in the dim light and his sharp nails dug into Jax's wrist. She bit her tongue to stop herself from crying out and put on a brave face instead.

"Evening, captain," she replied levelly, not breaking eye contact. Through her peripheral vision, Jax could see Peter held firmly in place by Ninth's thick arm, which was wrapped around his throat.

In a few seconds of silence, Peter made his move: with a yelp, he wriggled free and bounded over to the side of the ship, leaping over and plummeting into the sea. There was a splash, then silence. Jax's brave face was broken and she stared in utter disbelief at the place where Peter had vanished. Ninth chuckled wickedly. His shoulders shook and his arm jiggled, bouncing Jax up and down in the tight grip.

"So sad," he sneered. "Your little hero has abandoned you. Oh well. He will be back soon enough…" Ninth drew close to her. "Once I threaten to cut your throat."

Jax narrowed her eyes. "Don't be so sure," she said back, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "I'm just his teacher. He won't come scurrying back because you threaten to kill me."

"Oh, I beg to differ," Ninth chuckled. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd very much appreciate it if you dropped that crude little dagger of yours. It may only be myself and Mister Smee, and though I agree the latter is not much of a concern, I think you might find _me _more than a tough adversary."

Jax held that glare for a few more seconds before obediently dropping the dagger. Ninth kicked it away and it spun across the deck before stopping out of sight between two barrels. He dropped her and she fell to her unprepared knees. Her mind was blank: what the hell was she supposed to do? Peter was her only advantage. He had been the only thing that had made Jax believe that she may have survived. Now, the prospect looked bleak.

As Smee robbed her of her cloak and removed her hat and weapons, letting her hair fall loosely about her shoulders, anger filled her heart. Why had Peter abandoned her? Why had she even expected any better? She had known all along he was a child at heart, and he hadn't faced a challenge this hard in God knew how long. The first few rain drops began to fall as Smee hauled her to her feet and bound her to the main mast. She didn't resist: she could see no point. She had no weapons, no Peter, no hope. She was not surrounded, but she was at the mercy at the world's most ruthless pirate and that was even worse.

"Smee," Ninth ordered. "Release the fairy boy. Tell him to find the boy and tell him the girl's fate. If he should fail to do so, we shall kill them both now."

"It won't work," Jax said. Even she was surprised by how hollow her voice sounded. "Peter can't understand him."

Ninth's eye twitched; it was the first display of emotion Jax had ever seen from him. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, as though trying to calm himself. "Well, then," he began. "What-"

He cut off as a dull-green streak darted past Jax and barrelled into Ninth's solid chest. If it had happened to anyone else, they would have stumbled backwards and probably fallen over with no air in their lungs, but Ninth wasn't anyone else. He took a step backwards and regained his balance before looking down in bemusement at his attacker.

He need only to have looked at Jax's bright smile to know who it was. Peter stood before him, sword at his throat.

"No-one's allowed to threaten Jax," he growled. "Except me."

Peter made a slash at Ninth's chest; it tore his shirt, but did no further damage. Ninth snatched up an impressive sword of his own and the duel began. Jax watched with bated breath, flinching when Ninth got a bit too close to Peter and standing slightly on tiptoe when it looked like Peter was winning. When they moved behind the mast she was tied to she became impatient and relied only on her hearing to find out what was happening, but it didn't take long for her hopes to sink when she realized there was no way Peter could win. Ninth was bigger, stronger and he had a better sword, plus many more years of experience. Jax could see the concentration in Peter's face, where every movement Ninth made appeared effortless. His face mouth often dipped downwards at the side when he slipped up and his movements were too hasty; even an amateur swordsman like Jax could see that. She began calling out suggestions to Peter, but at Ninth's command a gag was promptly tied around her mouth. She glared at Smee and he averted his haze sheepishly.

Peter was being forced into a corner. There was a flash of silver and a twirl of a wrist; with a soft _plip_ Peter's sword was gone and he was forced down onto his back by Ninth's sword. Jax sagged in her bonds; as though the weather could read the atmosphere, rain began bucketing down, drenching her to the core. She watched with desperate eyes as Ninth turned to Smee, keeping his sword at Peter's throat.

"Release the fairy," he growled. His eyes shone with the light of a fanatic, something Jax had never seen before. Sweat dripped down his forehead and his face was twisted.

"Y-y-y-yes, c-cap'n," Smee stammered. He had noticed this sinister change too, and it terrified him. He reached into Dancer's glass cage and grabbed the fairy in his fist, holding him out at Ninth's eye level.

"Fly around the ship," Ninth commanded. His voice was low, but threatening undertones remained. The personality behind the passive brawn was beginning to make its debut appearance. "Give us as much magic dust as you can. If this doesn't fly like the bird, your dear little friend gets it." He gestured violently with his head in Jax's direction. Dancer nodded once, sullenly, and Smee released him. He rigidly flew around the ship at least a dozen times, layering the glittering dust on very thick. With a lurch, the ship was airborne and rising into the rain.

Dancer returned to Smee's outstretched hand and let himself be returned to his prison with the air of the resigned. Ninth grunted in satisfaction before turning back to Peter, teeth and eyes glinting.

"And now," he grinned. "I'll give our guest a proper greeting."

He lifted Peter up high over his head and threw him down promptly again. Jax gave a muffled shriek and struggled against her bonds, but to no prevail. Peter scrambled to his feet and swayed there for a few moments before ducking another punch aimed at his head and rolling away across the deck. With an effortless spring Ninth stopped him by placing a big black foot on Peter's side. The foot swung back and kicked Peter's back with an awful sound; Peter rolled back across the deck. His recovery was slightly slower this time. He swayed dangerously on his feet and stumbled. Ninth caught him and spun him around again with a hard punch. Peter's body splayed against the side of the ship and his crossed eyes struggled to focus on Ninth's hulking form as it moved closer, towering over him. Ninth gave him no time to recover this time, and slashed him viciously across the face. Peter rolled again across the deck, and slowly raised his arms in weak defence as Ninth drew close. There was a crack as Ninth's fist connected with Peter's chin and his head flew back with a choking sound. He scrambled away helplessly on his hands and knees, but Ninth kicked him again in the stomach. With a cry Peter flew to the side, hitting the side with a dull _thunk_. He crawled away blindly, and Jax saw blood now mingling with the rain on his face. Ninth's big arms wrapped around Peter's waist and he held him high, crushing him in a deadly bear hug before throwing him down harshly again.

Peter rolled over and looked into Ninth's eyes as he stared down at him, daring him to try to fight back. Peter grabbed his wrist and pulled it down weakly before chomping down on it with as much force as he could muster. Ninth laughed and lifted Peter up by his hair before throwing him down one more time. This time, much to Jax's terror, he swiped his sword from where it lay on the deck.

Peter rolled onto his back once more and looked at Ninth with an air of unwavering confidence. A thin smile lifted his lips upwards as the sword was raised high over the murderous pirate's head.

"To die," he whispered. "Would be-"

"I BELIEVE IN YOU, PETER PAN!"


	20. I'm Not Over

**A/N: I spent a good few lessons writing this chapter in the back of my Geography book a few months ago, but then I threw it out… IHATEMYLIFE ;_; Still, this one is more or less the same, from what I can remember… I still wish I had the original ;_; Also, there's a lot of descriptions in here. Just remember that it takes a lot longer to describe things with words than it does to actually do. So there's just a little bit of misconception of time or whatever. Anyway, enjoy the climax~!**

Peter knew he was defeated the moment his first attack on Ninth failed. He could see the triumph glinting in the deranged pirate's eye as he sent Peter's only weapon spiralling into the sea. He could feel the weight of Dancer's unusual silence upon his shoulders, felt the stab of lost pride with every blow Ninth dealt.

But worst of all, he could see it in Jax's eyes. He had seen the look on her face when he had flung himself overboard and the joy on her face when he returned had been the only thing keeping him in the air for those few crucial seconds. He could hear the hope and the pride in her voice as she cheered him on and promised himself then that he would never make Jax feel that disappointment in him again. Jax's happiness was now his, and he could not let it disappear. Not now.

But he was no Peter Pan. He was just Peter. He could not fly. He could not fly. He could not defeat Ninth. He could not save Jax.

As he rolled again onto his back, his eyes flicked over to Jax for the briefest of seconds; if he was as brave as she was, he would have held the gaze. The truth was, the disappointment, the total drain of hope and the _pity _etched in her face was too much for him.

Everything was too much for him. He could see that now. He was never meant to do this and survive. He was never designed to handle that loss of Wendy and the Lost Boys and Tink and emerge as happy as he had always been. He was never good enough for anyone- not his mother, not Wendy and now that the hero she had stayed up so late to read about was gone, he knew he had lost Jax's respect too. He was never meant to fly or have the swashbuckling adventures he did. He was meant only to be born, live, make his own mistakes and die.

He had fulfilled everything in this list… except one.

"To die," he smiled. "Would be-"

"I BELIEVE IN YOU, PETER PAN!"

xXx

Watching Peter fight had felt much like how Jax imagined being a proud parent must feel. Seeing him fall and then be kicked around like a rag doll was like having a favourite toy torn away. Jax cried out her suggestions out of desperation because with every blow dealt against the boy she had grown to love over the past two weeks her heart dropped another few metres. The helplessness when the gag had been stuffed in her mouth was overwhelming. She could do nothing to help herself or Peter, trussed up as she was.

Peter rolled onto his back for the second time, and he saw his thoughts etched in his face. He knew he was defeated. They all did. Suddenly all of Jax's willpower left her body in a rush and where her mind's eye had been busily constructing the swashbuckling image of Peter Pan she had envisioned reading the book that fateful night was now a boy who was in way over his head and staring death in the face with no will and absolute acceptance. He had had enough, she could see that much. She could scarcely blame him: he had been put through a lot in his supposedly forever-young lifetime. Anyone would feel sorry for him; he had lost his mother, than the girl he had idolized as a mother, along with his only friends and now his life was about to be snatched away from him.

For one second, Peter's eyes flicked over to Jax and their eyes met. His gaze averted as quickly as it had been raised to look at her, but the deed was done.

She didn't know what had happened, or how it had, but in that brief second where she had glimpsed the endless depths of Peter's hopeless eyes her mind had gone completely blank for a whole blissful second. Then everything from the past two weeks exploded in her mind- sounds, tastes, faces, emotions, memories, all flowing past in a colourful torrent.

Through the utter mental chaos, a single, crazy thought prevailed: _this is real._

She didn't know how she knew, she just knew. What had utterly bamboozled her a week ago now made perfect sense. She could no longer pretend; if she believed in God she would have called it an epiphany. The nonsensical events of the past two weeks that she had been raised to reject seemed perfectly logical, and her old life suddenly seemed unbelievably drab and boring and plain and confusing. Why bother driving when you can fly? Why bother going to school when you can swing from tree to a jungle all day?

Jax's jaw worked furiously against the gag. She had no idea what she was doing, or why; it was like she had become an onlooker all of a sudden, letting her instincts take over and do what they felt they had to do. Her heart pumped with fear as Ninth raised the sword over his head, grinning inanely, and the falling rain slid over her mouth for the first time since she had been gagged as Peter smiled vaguely back.

"To die," he said, almost in slow-motion. "Would be-"

"I BELIEVE IN YOU, PETER PAN!"

Jax didn't know why she had cried out, or what she expected from her actions, but the words had slipped out and she couldn't take them back now.

Which was just as well, because at the sound of her voice Ninth's gaze turned to Jax, his sword frozen over his head. Peter's head slowly turned too and he looked Jax in the eyes. For a moment she stared at the new, foreign light that shone in his eyes and the sincerity in his smile; then she realized what she had done and redirected her gaze, determined not to let Ninth rob her of their last advantage.

"How very heroic!" Ninth cried, abandoning Peter and stalking towards Jax. His chocolate-y voice was gone, replaced by a tone that suggested he may well be crazy. "Our little sceptic has decided to become a believer."

Filled with new confidence, Jax nodded and smiled. "That's me."

"What're you playing at?" he spat. Jax blinked against the spit that sprayed her face but otherwise did not respond. "You think you're giving him hope? Hah!" He threw his head back and barked a harsh, mirthless laugh, as though to prove a point. "There is no such thing as hope! Not in the darkest of places, not in the lightest, not ever! They're just words. They don't mean anything."

As Ninth moved closer, his hulking frame blocked Peter from Jax's sight. Still, from her peripheral vision she could see a glowing light steadily growing from where Peter lay. She couldn't let Ninth see it. She kept her gaze firmly locked in his, hoping the light wouldn't reflect in her eyes and into his. At that moment, he seemed too angry to care.

"You are a twisted man," Jax said simply, determined to keep his attention as long as he could until Peter could hold it in no longer.

Ninth laughed that same laugh again; Jax couldn't supress a shudder. "And for that there is only one to blame," he hissed.

"And who might that be?" Jax asked coolly.

"Her Majesty the Queen," he spat.

Jax blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"I could tell, when I first set eyes on you, that you were a girl of the Queen."

Jax's eyebrows furrowed and she looked at Ninth curiously. "I'm not following."

"The way you speak, the way you carry yourself, it all suggests a privileged up-bringing. Am I correct?"

Jax reflected on her old life- it now seemed so far away- and had to agree. A pricey private school, a big fancy house, her own maid… It was pretty privileged, especially when compared to the jungle. "I suppose so?"

Ninth spat again, this time in Jax's face. She screwed up her face in disgust and shook it off as best she could. "I was born in the slums of London," he said viciously. His eyes blazed with a hateful fire. "And they took us away when we were young. They shipped us off and made us work, work until our backs broke and there were blisters where our hands should be. And then we worked some more. It was relentless. There was no such thing as a day off. The good Christians gave up on their God. There we discovered the meaning of life- suffering. There is no such thing as hope or salvation."

As Ninth spoke, the bonds around Jax suddenly loosened and then tightened again. She wriggled her shoulders cautiously and experimentally; she could move. The ropes had been severed, and someone was holding them in place. Jax struggled not to let her bewilderment show on her face: the only other person on deck who wasn't currenly trapped in a lantern, happily glowing away or threatening her was…

_Smee._

Jax's heart soared as she realized the kind-hearted First Mate's intentions and did her best to conceal Ninth's betrayal and her newest advantage. So instead of cheering, she shrugged. "Sure there is." _Like the glowing boy behind you. And that First Mate you trust who is now behind me, both literally and metaphorically. _

"Don't kid yourself, girl," Ninth snarled. "The world is cruel, and it will not save a pretty face like yours." He grabbed her face between his claws and squeezed; Jax's face squashed together like a puffer fish and little beads of blood bloomed on her cheeks. "And the Queen certainly won't."

Jax heard the sound of clinking metal to her right; she allowed her gaze to drop for a second and saw the hilt of a sword hiding in the shadows. She fought to supress her grin. "So why all the fuss?" She asked. They were rising quickly now; the wind whipped her hair and the rain stung her face.

"It is all thanks to you," Ninth began. "I would have never known about the boy if you had not so kindly donated your book. I would have kidnapped him immediately if I hadn't found out he could not fly, so I kept you on so you could teach him. I saw through your Jack Sparrow façade the moment I saw it. I threatened you to keep you on your toes but I would never have killed you. I needed you alive. And I knew the redskins knew that too, so I set up a precautionary stake out outside your little hidey hole. That little guard has been watching you for some time now. He knew all your plans, he warned us. I knew it was time to act. So I caught you off guard, abandoned that ridiculous crew on the other side of the island and lured you in. I don't need those baboons ruining this, and I don't need idiots like you two either. Your purpose is fulfilled."

Jax strained against her bonds and the ropes fell around her. With a flourish, she pulled the sword from its sheath and held it at Ninth's throat, grinning devilishly in the light Peter now bathed them in.

"I'm not over yet, mate."


	21. Enter Peter Pan

**A/N: Bit of a rip-off from the 2003 **_**Peter Pan**_**, I know, but it's the same general concept. Just enjoy it.**

The ship lurched as Jax lunged, so her first attack missed. Ninth spun around, probably to make a shish kebab of her, but then he finally noticed Peter and that queer golden light emanating from him. He paused; Jax acted. She ran and leaped, hugging the big man tight and barrelling him back a few steps before pushing herself away, sliding across the deck on her belly until she came to rest in a corner of the deck, squeezing her eyes shut and hiding her face in her arms.

"Now, Peter!"

Whether or not Peter had been holding in that unfamiliar, unlimited happiness that had been building up inside him or it had just been good timing, Ja would never know. But at that moment, there was a deep boom and a light that was blinding even through Jax's closed eyes as protective arms swept across them. An explosive wind followed, whipping her hair wildly about her head. She heard the unprepared Ninth and Mister Smee cry out; heard something break. She felt little hands tugging her hair and Dancer's familiar bell-words: _look up._

Jax sat up and blinked. An almost invisible ring of force was spreading from where Peter lay, and as it passed the sea turned blue and calm, and the forest became green and lively. The black waters of the Mermaid Lagoon were alive with movement and the shine of a hundred different-coloured tails slapping on the water. Smoke rose from the redskin camp in a lazy spiral and cries of joy could be heard, even from here. A thousand golden lights emerged from the trees, flickering and fluttering in the air. Dancer waved heartily to his fellow fairies. They seemed to wave back. The rain flickered and faded; the rainclouds were sucked away to reveal a clear blue sky.

Grinning, Jax looked down to where Peter lay… except her didn't. She was hardly surprised when she looked up and saw a faint black speck high over her head in the new clear blue sky. He may have been out of sight, but when Peter Pan crowed he may well have been standing right next to her.

Jax laughed. It had never felt so wonderful.

At that moment, another white light engulfed them. For a moment Jax was not really Jax; she was a thousand pieces floating in a strange bright stream of sound and colour. It was by no means unpleasant. The drifting sensation made her feel free, so free. She let herself float for a few more seconds until she felt all those little pieces of her being sucked back down into a single place; she resisted, felt human pain again. With a dismissive mental sigh, she gave in and let herself be drawn back into her body.

She was still on the flying ship, but she was no longer in Neverland. They were sailing now over grey clouds in a black, starless night. Jax remembered how to make her legs work and walked over to the side; she could faintly see the lights of a city below them. Behind her, Ninth and Mister Smee were still getting their bearings. Jax sighed, blowing a wisp of hair out of her face. Jumping was not an option, and if she couldn't fly it probably wasn't a very good place to try. So until they landed, she was stuck with the two pirates.

"Excuse me?" She called to a rapidly blinking Ninth. "Yes, you. Where are we?"

Ninth had forgotten how to make his lips. He gaped like a goldfish for a few seconds before Smee spoke for him. His voice was croaky and thin and his lips moved as though they were made of lead, but he managed to speak. "London, Miss."

Jax's eyes widened. "You're going to attack the Queen?" she breathed.

Ninth swayed as he got to his feet. Jax wondered whether it was because she was younger or because she wasn't quite as bitter as he was that contributed to her fast recovery. "Yes," he snarled. "She did nothing to help us. She deserves it."

Jax whistled through her teeth. "Good luck with that, bud. Have you seen the palace? You'll never get past the guards."

"Because they are expecting an attack on foot," Ninth grinned. "Not a flying ship."

Jax blew more hair out of her face. "Still, there's no way you could do it. How do you know to get to her? She'll have her own private guard. It's just not done."

"It is if you can fly," Ninth snarled, and lunged for Dancer. He fell flat on his face as the lithe fairy stayed true to his name and danced out of his grip. Jax looked at him.

"Scram," she said, and Dancer saluted before diving over the side and plummeting down. Now all Jax had to do was make sure the ship didn't land and redirect it to Neverland.

"This should be fun," she muttered to herself, stepping forward to do some form of harm to the useless Ninth, but at that moment his hand shot up, wrapped around her ankle and tore her down. She fell with a grunt and lashed out with her foot, aiming for his face. She missed and his grip didn't loosen; rather, it tightened. The sharp nails dug into her leg and she kicked blindly again. He caught her other leg this time and, struggling to his feet, hauled her up upside-down. The blood rushed unpleasantly to her head and she gurgled uncomfortably. The ship was dropping now; Mister Smee was making sure of that. With sheer malice in his eyes, Ninth tied her upside down to the mainmast again.

"I'll deal with you later," he snarled. "I'm going to drag it out, sweetcheeks. It'll be long and painful and you will rue the day you were born."

"Great," Jax grinned, then frowned, so it would look like a grin to the pirate. "I look forward to it."

Ninth stalked away, muttering angrily under his breath. There was an unpleasant lurch as the ship dropped lower; Jax could not see it, but the lights of Buckingham Palace were now visible over the side. Still they dropped, still the blood rushed to Jax's head. Her temples throbbed and her eyes bulged. This was most certainly not where she had imagined she would be a week ago. She much preferred floating in limbo between Neverland and London…

For a moment a thick, cold, heavy cloud of smog surrounded them. Jax closed her eyes and held her breath as they plummeted down, her hair pooling on the deck beneath her head. Then they emerged again, and Jax could hear the sounds of the city over the wind and the blood pounding in her ears. They were close. Clenching her jaw against the throbbing in her head, she tried to wriggle around in her bonds, tried to find a way out. But with no Dancer and no Peter this may well have been-

There was a bang and a hole tore through the deck. A little grey bullet soared past Jax's ear, a few centimetres to the right. More followed; Jax tried to make herself as small as possible, which was easier said than done when tied upside-down to a mast. She squeezed her eyes shut against the pain in her head and the sounds of shouting and gunfire around her; they snapped open again abruptly as the ropes around her loosened. She prepared herself for impact on her head, but was caught by her ankles instead. Rolling her eyes up to give Ninth a very disapproving look, her mood was considerably brightened when she saw a familiar boy grinning down at her. His green eyes were ablaze with light and his sandy blonde hair shone in the lights of the city. His clothes were made of healthy green leaves and his skin, dirty as it was, seemed to glow.

"Hello, Peter Pan," Jax croaked. "Mind setting me right-way-up?"

"Certainly," Peter beamed, carefully laying Jax down on her back and helping her to her feet. She swayed for a seconds, wildly dizzy, then focused.

"That was a very plain entrance for someone like you," Jax said, eyebrow raised. "How'd you get me out, anyway? He should have… Oh."

Ninth had pushed Mister Smee away from the helm, who had become mysteriously blind to the prisoner's escape. In the time since the bullets had started flying, Ninth had now taken over the helm, armed to the teeth and with a mad look in his eyes and an inane grin on his face as he spun the wheel, directing the ship down to the palace.

"Peter, we've got to stop him," Jax said urgently. "If he lands, there'll be a manslaughter."

Peter shrugged. "Who cares? He's the bad guy."

Jax knew better than anyone what would happen to Peter if he lost his bad guy again, but she also knew how stubborn he was. So she told him the other part. "Yes, but they don't know that. They'll shoot us down too."

Peter shrugged again. "I'll just fly away."

Jax raised an eyebrow. "And leave me here? I don't think so. We need to convince them that he kidnapped us or something…"

Peter looked wistfully at the big pirate. "I still don't see why we can't just let him get shot."

Jax rolled her eyes. "Just follow my lead, OK? Go hide."

Peter frowned. "But I just got here!"

"You'll have your spotlight in a moment. Just listen for a moment, OK?"

xXx

Ninth could scarcely believe it. Buckingham Palace was a glittering jewel below him, so close he could almost cup it in his hands and crush it, just as he had always dreamed of doing. And once he had brought the Queen down, who knew what he could do next? The world was finally his oyster. Nothing, _nothing _could stop him.

"OI! OVER HERE, YOU BIG BUMBLING BRUTE!"

Except maybe that snotty black-haired brat who seemed intent on ruining everything. She was standing on the deck now, right-way up. Which was a shame, because Ninth had rather enjoyed that look of discomfort on her face as the blood rushed to her head. Her face was still flushed, but her eyes glinted.

No matter; it was a light he would put out soon enough. He had looked forward to torturing the girl until she begged for death, but he could stand her antics no longer. He could not let her interfere. With a growl he pounced from the helm and onto the deck, sword drawn and poised to attack. The girl blew a loud raspberry at him and rolled away from his falling sword, standing at the edge of the boat and looking infuriatingly cocky. She leaned against the side, her hands wrapped around the wood, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Ninth glanced briefly over the side. They were dropping, but still high enough for the girl to be seriously injured or dead by the time she hit the ground. Even if she wasn't, the bullets would probably take care of it anyway. He grinned at the thought; she would land in the middle of the Palace, and then he could crush her dead body with the _Jolly Roger _as he landed. No-one would remember her except the hull, smeared with her blood and the remains of her ground bones.

It was the best idea he'd had in a long time, so without further ado he pushed her.

xXx

It had all gone rather well, Jax thought.

Her goading had been pretty spectacular (if she did say so herself) and the fall was pretty fun too. She flipped over and over, eyes closed and smiling serenely. It was more fun than she would have thought, having her hair whip her face and hearing the roar of the air in her ears as she plummeted. She heard Peter's scream right on cue and heard a rush of bells in her ear, screaming a few obscenities and demanding her as to whether or not she was sane.

"Until the last second," she bellowed over the sound of the wind as she rolled over again through the rushing air. "Or maybe a little bit before. Just not before then."

_You're nuts! _Dancer cried. _You're not invincible, who do you think you are-_

"Runnin' round leaving scars," Jax sang to herself, a smile tugging at her lips. Despite the current predicament, she felt rather calm and a bit silly. She guessed that it had something to do with Neverland.

Dancer continued this way for a bit before, after muttering something about not helping her and letting her learn her lesson, flew around her once and coated her in shimmering golden dust. Jax felt the sparks tingle on her skin and remembered the mental oblivion that had come when she realized the difference between reality and dreams and suddenly soared upwards, defying gravity altogether. Her stomach flipped uncomfortably for a moment and she wobbled a little in the air, but she soon got the knack of it. She dived down, trying to make it look like she was still falling the last few hundred metres naturally before sticking her feet out and landing softly on the roof of Buckingham Palace. Dancer hid in her clothes, and she made sure he was properly concealed before screaming.

"Help! Somebody help, I'm up here!"

The guards had seen her fall; they knew exactly where she was. They moved quickly and in a few minutes Jax was safely back on the ground, crying fake tears and shaking with false tremors.

"What's your name?" one of the guards asked her, kneeling down on one knee and holding her shaking shoulders steady.

"J-Jax," she sobbed. "Jacqueline H-Hull."

"Hello Jax," the guard smiled. "Can you tell me where you came from?"

Jax was very tempted to say 'heaven', but instead pointed up at the slowly descending ship. "Th-th-there. I was p-p-pushed."

"And who is captaining that, uh, spectacular ship?"

Jax shook her head. "We d-don't know his n-n-name. We r-rarely saw d-d-d-daylight."

"We? So there's two of you?"

Jax nodded. "M-me and P-P-P-Peter. Please, you have to help him, he's still up there!"

The guard turned around, and sure enough the boat was now low enough for the deck to be visible, and what they saw was a big burly man hitting a small, dirty boy. There were roars of outrage and the gunfire started up again. Peter ducked down and disappeared; enraged, Ninth threw a rope over the side and slid down, murder in his eyes.

Jax swallowed. They hadn't counted on this happening.

Still, the guards of Buckingham Palace had it covered. They swarmed forward, guns held up. Police sirens wailed close-by. Ninth narrowed his eyes and death glared every single one of them, waving his swords around in a fancy sort of way, but even he knew he was beaten. The ship was still descending and was moving past him; soon the hull would be scraping through the roof of the palace. The rope he had thrown down trailed away and disappeared in the ring of guards surrounding him.

There was a loud screech as the police cars skidded to a halt. The soldiers quickly melted back and were replaced by officers dressed in black wearing helmets and holding shields and tasers. From a gap between their shoulders, Ninth's black eyes saw a familiar face. She smiled and waved cheekily; a little golden light fluttered by her side.

With a roar, Ninth lunged forward. The police restrained him and the girl broke out in tears again before two officers took her away gently. She followed them, but couldn't seem to resist a cheeky wink over her shoulder before she disappeared into the London night.

_I hate kids, _Ninth reflected as he dropped his sword with a clatter. _I really do._


	22. Family Reunion

After two weeks in which Jacqueline Hull had been kidnapped, sacrificed, attacked by a giant crocodile, almost drowned by savage mermaids, forced to steer a flying ship, poisoned, paralysed, tied up, attacked and pushed out of a flying ship, she thought it was quite reasonable that, several hours after being escorted away from Buckingham Palace, she hadn't the faintest idea as to how she was going to explain to her mother where she had been for the past two weeks and why she had suddenly turned up on her respectable doorstep covered in blood and dirt and wearing pirates clothes over the top of her shredded pyjamas.

As she had outlined in her plan, Peter had also goaded Ninth into pushing him out of the ship, thus ensuring his escape. Peter, lacking in major injuries as he was, did not accompany Jax to the hospital where they fixed up her bleeding arm (explaining the seaweed bandage hadn't been easy, but she'd done it) and marvelled over her miraculously healed leg and foot before taking her back to the station. Peter and Jax hadn't been allowed to see each other at the police station, though, and once they had identified her as a discovered missing person they hadn't really given her much time to ask if Peter could stay with her. She had managed to get the police to believe her bogus story- that she had been drugged, kidnapped and dragged from place under heavy influence of drugs to do things she couldn't remember for a man she didn't know- but she hadn't seen her mother in a very long time. Who knew how she'd take it?

_Are we there yet? _Dancer hissed from her shoulder. _I'm dying in here, you stink._

One of the two policemen on either side of Jax leaned forward and rapped on the familiar, glossy door smartly. There were muffled footsteps from the other side, the sound of a key being turned. The door opened a crack; one brown eye, startlingly similar to Jax's (though heavily laden with make-up) stared out, observing first the tall policemen and then the dirty girl standing between them. The eye widened. The door slammed shut again and the sound of a chain being hastily pulled away could be heard. The door was thrown open and Jax lost her balance as the woman on the other side flung her arms around her neck. The officers steadied their young charge and doffed their caps politely.

"Evening, ma'am," one of them said.

_She's… crushing… me, _Dancer wheezed.

"Mum," Jax murmured in the woman's ear. The word was unfamiliar on her tongue. "People are staring."

As though on cue, the curtains of the other houses on the street were torn open and light flooded the road as the nosy neighbours poked their heads out.

Chelsea Hull seemed to notice this and straightened, still clasping Jax by the shoulders (Dancer had conveniently relocated himself to avoid her crushing grip). She looked beautiful, in spite of the late hour. Her brown eyes shone and her red lips parted to reveal a perfect set of pearly white teeth. Her long, dark red hair cascaded around her shoulders and was smooth and glossy, shining in the light from the hallway behind her. She was dressed plainly in a black shirt and matching trousers that flared at the knee and hid her feet (though they were undoubtedly clad in nice high heels, or something of the like). Jax stared for a few moments: how could _this _be her mother? She fuzzily remembered her face before she had gone to Neverland. Had she always been so clean? It seemed strange now.

"You're alive," Chelsea breathed, smiling like a bit of an idiot.

Jax nodded awkwardly. "Yep."

"Do you mind if we move inside?" One of the policemen said. "We just need to straighten a few things out with you, if you don't mind."

"Certainly, certainly." With a lingering gaze at Jax's filthy face (it was a wonder Chelsea recognized her daughter at all, really) Chelsea stood aside and gestured for them to come inside. Jax gestured to the policemen, who gestured back at her. With a joking bashful chuckle (which the others didn't find very funny), Jax stepped back inside the house. It seemed so big compared to the hollow she had been living. It was too big. And too white. And too boring.

"Just wait in here for a moment, sweetheart," Chelsea said, opening the door to the living room. "I just need to talk to the police officers for a moment."

Jax just nodded and stepped inside. The door was closed behind her with a click. She looked around in wonderment as she moved towards the couch; had she _really _been living here for fourteen years? It was wonder she had never become sick of it. It was all white walls and grey carpet and brown shelves and no paintings, or decorations. It was so business, so plain, so clean and so very boring.

Jax settled down on the white leather couch, knowing full well how filthy she was and how filthy the couch soon would be. It wasn't as comfortable as Peter's bed. With two fingers she lifted the shoulder of her shirt and Dancer burst out, coughing and gagging. Jax looked at him pointedly.

"Come on, it wasn't that bad."

_You have no idea. You've been dunked in the sea enough times I thought it would've washed you off a little._

"Thanks, Dancer. I'll keep it in mind next time the crocodile's attacking me- _oh, yes, and don't forget to scrub behind your ears, Jax. _Yeah right," she snorted. "You can stay out, just make sure you're not seen."

Dancer accepted this gratefully, and fluttered around the maddeningly clean room as Chelsea's conversation with the officers dragged on. As time passed, Jax found an overwhelming urge to trash everything in the room, make it messy, change things up a bit. As changed as she was by Neverland, though, she still knew how she was supposed to act now she was back in London, so she refrained and waited.

Soon enough, she heard polite farewells, the front door open and close and the doorknob turn again. Dancer shot out of sight as Chelsea stepped in again, smiling warmly at Jax. Her smile faltered when she saw her filthy daughter lounging on the previously spotless lounge, but she fought to stay positive as she delicately took a seat opposite Jax.

They looked at each other for a while before Chelsea finally spoke. "It's been a very trying two weeks."

"Who for, me or you?" Jax asked innocently.

"Both of us," Chelsea said gently. "You just take as much time as you need to properly sort yourself out and then we'll head back to the station to get things straight."

Jax's eyebrows furrowed. "I'm not sure that I'm following you."

"Well, your story," Chelsea said with forced airiness. "I mean, you can't expect us to really believe it…"

"You think I'm lying?" Jax said, feigning disbelief. _Of course I'm bloody lying._

"It's just not very likely," Chelsea said reluctantly. "I mean, all the fuss at the Palace…"

Jax held up her hands. "Don't ask me."

"But who was that boy? And the soldiers said… well, they said you were flying." Chelsea looked around anxiously, as though worried someone would hear her saying such things.

"Peter was just a victim of circumstances, like me," Jax shrugged. "We didn't really get to know each other. And I don't know what they saw, but it's definitely not true. People can't fly, right?"

"So how did you fall to the top of the Palace without hurting yourself?" Chelsea said challengingly. "Please, Jax," she pleaded. "Just tell me the truth."

Jax cocked an eyebrow. "Do you want the truth or the sane version?"

Chelsea blinked. "What do you mean?"

Jax shrugged airily. "Well, in your case, the truth would be that you hit me and stole my childhood. But the sane version is that I grew out of it."

Chelsea paled significantly; Jax smiled smugly to herself. "Where… Where did you get that idea from?"

"Not an idea," Jax corrected. "A memory. What kind of parenting course did you take? Maybe you should take it again, because you're doing a rubbish job."

Chelsea's anger flared and she stood. "I am working alone to keep you supported!" she exclaimed.

"You're choosing work over me!" Jax cried, also standing. "Admit it, it's just easier for you to take care of something that doesn't have actual feelings. You stuffed it up with a human so you decided to replace it with a job."

"How dare you!" Chelsea cried. "What do you expect me to do, after your no-good father left us alone? If you had a problem, you should have just spoken to me instead of running off and drinking and smoking God knows what-"

"Drinking and smoking? Is that what they told you?" Jax scoffed. "So now I'm the troubled teenager, is that right?"

"Well, what other explanation is there?" Chelsea cursed. "I should never had left you by yourself, I should have known it would lead to this…"

"You're right about the first one," Jax said ferociously. "But I'm not troubled. Far from it."

"Well then if you weren't running around on the streets, where were you?" Chelsea challenged her.

Jax stormed to the door; Dancer trailed along on the floor. "I went to get my childhood back," Jax said quietly before slamming the door shut soundly behind her.


	23. Welcome Home

**A/N: Essentially my view of life. Enjoy your chapter of my mind's inner workings.**

Jax woke the next morning in a comfortable bed, with a full stomach and clean clothes. She rolled over onto her back and stared blankly and the clean, plain white ceiling over her head. She saw the curtains fluttering in the breeze coming in through her open window, breathed in the smog and damp of London. She heard the sounds of the city, of the expensive cars driving past and the thud of the newspapers as they were thrown onto the doorsteps. She heard the neighbours chatting away idly, heard their radios and televisions blaring. She smelled the pollution in the air and scents of a delicious breakfast wafting up to her.

She hated it.

She missed the softness of Peter's bear skin blanket and the dim light that radiated from nowhere in the hollow. She missed the earthen walls and the roots poking through the earth. She missed the warm, thick but always fresh air that she would breathe in when she woke up in the morning. She missed the sound of Peter's heavy breathing and the creak of the hammocks and the sounds of the forest above her. She missed the stupid conversations Peter and Dancer would engage her in. She missed the smell of the bland coconuts and the plain bananas. She missed Neverland more than she could have imagined possible.

Unwillingly, she threw her legs over the side of the bed and stood. Dancer rustled in her hair and sat up, yawning before disengaging himself from Jax's wild hair and fluttering free. He sat on top of Jax's full-length mirror and chimed a sleepy good morning. Jax smiled half-heartedly back and stood in front of him, gazing into her reflection.

It was the first time she had looked at herself properly in a while. Her hair, usually straight and glossy, was now tangled and curly. Her face still bore the marks of the salt water and the mud she had slathered on so many times. Her bandaged arm throbbed slightly (she knew that Tiger Lily could have done a much better job) and her limbs bore many scars. Her fingernails were torn and chipped and dirty.

She didn't really mind.

But London would. She lifted her eyes and looked at Dancer. "Do whatever you want, as long as you don't get seen. Come back her later, I'm just going to have a shower. Be careful."

Dancer cocked his head to once side. _Are you alright?_

Jax shrugged, turning away and moving towards her bathroom. "I miss dreaming."

Some time after, Jax emerged from the shower, wrapped in a plain white towel. Her hair, though wet, was as straight and shiny as it had been the night she was kidnapped. Her face scrubbed clean and she had repaired her fingers as much as she could. She had cleaned up her many cuts, keeping her arm carefully cleaned but taking the bandage off her leg at long last. It was as good as new, if not better. She smelt better, too.

She drew close to the mirror, wiping the water droplets away with her palm. Her fingers brushed over the scar at her throat, that lethal tattoo that made her a marked woman. In Neverland, at least. Here in London, it was just a curious scar on a troubled girl.

With a sigh, Jax dried her hair and got dressed in a plain baggy grey shirt and black jeans. Just before she left the bathroom, she paused and frowned at her unfamiliar reflection. Finally figuring out what was wrong, she smiled wryly and flipped her hair forward, tying it up on top of her head in a messy bun. She stood straight again and surveyed herself in the mirror: far from perfect, but it would have to do.

She stepped back out into her room, where Dancer was casually sitting on the dresser, surveying Jax's room. She smiled warmly at him: even if she had lost Peter for the time being, she still had her way out, her charming little friend. She held out her hand and he fluttered over, perching himself on the tip of her finger. She held him up to eye level.

"Back so soon?" she murmured.

Dancer shrugged. _It's dirty out there. There's so much pollution and so little nice forests, like there are back at home. I came back ages ago. Your room is very boring, by the way. How did you live here for fourteen years?_

Jax lifted him up and gently tipped him out into her bun, where he settled himself in quite comfortably. "Don't ask me," she said. "I don't even know myself, anymore."

Dancer cuddled up to the centre of Jax's bun; she chuckled quietly to herself. _Your hair is so much nicer when it's clean._

"You're a clean freak, did you know that?" Jax shook her head, walking over to the door. "Keep quiet. We're going out."

_Ooh, scary._

"More than you know."

Jax closed the door behind her quietly, stepping out onto the plain landing, and was greeted immediately by an unfamiliar sight halfway down the staircase. "Excuse me," she addressed the woman as politely as she could. "Who are you?"

The woman turned, her young eyes bright and startled. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a bun and her pale skin must have been scrubbed clean religiously every night. She was lean and her black and white maid uniform fit her perfectly. She bowed gracefully when she saw Jax, who wondered how she had managed to put up with such behaviour for fourteen years. "Good morning, Miss Jacqueline."

"Who are you?" Jax asked again. "Where's Harriet?"

The maid curtseyed. "Miss Korinay retired the day after you went missing, Miss Jacqueline. She collapsed when she found your room empty and the doctors declared her unfit for work much longer."

"Oh." Jax's voice and heart was suddenly hollow. She sagged against the wall. "Oh."

The maid curtseyed again. "Miss Chelsea asked to tell you are excused from school this week, seeing as you just returned. She also requested to see you in her study tonight when she returns. Breakfast is downstairs."

"Thanks," Jax said emptily. She moved down the staircase and the young maid bowed again as she walked past. "Oh, and by the way," Jax said suddenly as she reached the bottom of the staircase. "My name is Jax."

Sure enough, a delicious breakfast of assorted croissants, toasts, tarts and countless other sweets that were probably unfit for breakfast awaited Jax downstairs. She poured herself a glass of orange juice and moved straight to the fruit bowl, piling a plate high with grapes and slices of mango and apple she had messily cut herself. Dancer emerged from her hair and fluttered down next to where she sat cross-legged on the floor. She passed him a grape, which he attempted to lift and ultimately failed. Jax laughed as she munched on her juicy fruit, occasionally engaging in idle, two-sentence conversation. Silence fell, broken only by the distant sweep of the new maid's brush across the expensive wooden floor. Finally, Dancer spoke.

_So what are you going to do?_

Jax shrugged. "I have to find Peter."

_So why are you sitting around here then?_

"Because I don't know where to start."

_The police station?_

"They think I'm crazy, remember? I set foot in there, I won't leave without an interrogation. I'm tired of the questions."

_Already?_

"I'm tired of London. Fourteen years is enough." Jax sighed and pushed her empty plate away from her. Dancer peered over it in astonishment.

_That was fast. Peter's taught you how to become a pig. _

"I can't leave yet, though," Jax continued, ignoring Dancer. A wry smile played with her lips. "I've got a very important English assignment due soon, anyway. If I'm going to run away with Peter I might as well be able to boast better academic abilities than him."

_I like how you think._

With a sigh, Jax stood and took her plate to the kitchen. Dancer fluttered along lazily behind, marvelling at the technology and the style of the house. As new a concept as it was to the fairy, Jax found it all drearily boring. She knew precisely what she wanted to write for her English speech, and her desperate wish to escape London once and for all was the best motivation she could have been given. The sooner she presented it, the better, because what she wouldn't admit to Dancer was that outshining Peter wasn't her only reason for wanting to present the oral. She couldn't explain it, but even if no-one would ever believe her she didn't want to leave London without imparting a piece of Neverland first.

She left the kitchen and moved to the front door. "Want to come for a little walk?"

Dancer wrinkled his little nose. _But it's filthy out there._

Jax shrugged. "It has its nice spots. There's a statue in Kensington Gardens I want you to see, actually…"


	24. Straight on 'Till Morning

Jax returned to school the following week, as calm and collected as she ever had been. She didn't talk to anyone about where she had been for the past two weeks, instead turning mysteriously deaf when the subject was raised. She did as well in her schoolwork as she usually did but everyone agreed she was mysteriously detached and quiet, not the same Jax they used to know. She always seemed tired, too- not physically, but there was just a weariness that hung about her in the air, a quiet look of near disdain that she passed onto anything that passed under her gaze. On the odd occasion when she did speak, she began to say something like 'when I was in…' or 'it's not like how it was…' but would trail off before she finished, leaving everyone curious as to where, exactly, she was referring to.

On the Wednesday after she returned, Jax stood before her English class, palm cards in hand. She had defied all expectations by having her assignment completed on time; when asked how on earth she had managed to do it, she just smiled wryly and shrugged. The sour people of the class muttered about how it couldn't be A-grade material if it had been completed in a few days instead of the two weeks usually given, but even they settled down quietly and eagerly to listen to what the dark-haired wonder girl had to say.

"Peter Pan is not the innocent boy Disney would have you believe," she began, her voice loud, perfectly paced and somewhat commanding. Everyone was captivated. "In his book, Sir J.M Barrie says he has a cruel sense of humour and is regularly proved to be a killer. He is a slight narcissist and has a tendency to be self-absorbed. He is stubborn and has a tendency to dictate the Lost Boys and the Darlings while they stay in Neverland.

"However, he is respected by the Lost Boys and he proves to have a soft spot for the women in his life- namely Wendy Darling and his fairy, Tinker Bell. He is a loyal friend and a good fighter, if not a little boastful at times. He knows how to survive and, moreover, how to fly. He becomes a hero by defeating the evil Captain Hook and makes a great sacrifice by letting the Darlings and the Lost Boys return to London without him, even though they are his only friends. In these ways he proves his bravery and loyalty."

It continued this way for six minutes on the dot, and a few days later Jax received the assignment back with a small A+ scribbled on the corner in black ink. One of the girls in her class, Jill Posie, could have sworn she saw that strange Jax girl talking to herself as she looked at her graded assignment. She told anyone who would listen that she heard Jax say 'That's me done, then' and a strange sound of tinkling bells coming from nowhere in response.

xXx

Peter sat alone in a corner of the orphanage, arms folded as he stared out the window broodingly. He didn't like it here. It was too clean and crisp and proper. The old women dressed in their black and white suits were far too strict and didn't let him have any fun. The children thought he was strange and stayed away from him. He didn't like the clothes they had forced him to wear instead of the leaves he had from Neverland, his only souvenirs of his home. He didn't like not having Jax and Dancer around. At least _they _were his friends. He hadn't seen Jax since she had been pushed out of the ship two weeks earlier. He wondered what she was doing. He wondered if she was going to stay in London for the rest of her life. That wouldn't be fun. Peter would be all alone if she did that. He would have escaped himself already if it weren't for the orphanage. They seemed to know there was something strange about him and never let him outside. And the place was so suffocating and depressing Peter could barely summon the happiness to fly anyway. Until he could think of an ingenious plan with which to escape this barren hellhole, he was stuck. Peter did not like being stuck. He was used to moving around and flying and being part of the action. Here, moving around seemed an effort for everyone, flying was certainly not the norm and there was no such thing as action.

Peter's head fell against the cold glass of the window. Where was Jax? Couldn't she at least visit him? Peter wondered if she even missed him at all. For some reason the idea of her never coming back made him feel sick. Why did it matter so much? She was just a teacher. Who had saved his life. And become his best friend. What was he to her? Probably nothing. Just some stupid kid she had to teach how to fly. Peter's shoulders slumped. What if he was stuck here forever? What if he never got back to Neverland? The thought made him want to cry. But Peter Pan did not cry in front of stupid people like the orphans around him, for they were so very stupid.

So he cried out the window instead.

One tear, two. Washing the grime away. He wondered if Jax had cleaned herself up and gone back to her posh London life. Peter had no place in that life. The tears fell. He sniffed and felt sorry for himself.

"Peter, dear?"

The Peter in question whirled, wiping his face on his faded blue sweater hurriedly. "I wasn't crying!" he snapped.

The nun in front of him blinked in surprise. "Uh, Peter, you've got a visitor."

Peter's heart fluttered with hope. Would it be…? He craned his neck past the nun to see this mysterious visitor, already imagining the look on Jax's face when she saw him-

His shoulders slumped. It wasn't Jax. He didn't know this girl. Her pale skin was smooth and clean, her hair was shiny and glossy and tied at the top of her head in a messy, lazy bun. Her chocolate eyes were calm and smooth, not revealing anything. Her face was slightly amused. She was dressed plainly in jeans and a jumper not unlike Peter's, and as she swaggered down the corridor she casually scratched an apparent itch at her throat; in doing so, the fabric of her jumper was pulled away from there. Peter's eyes widened when he saw the two, pearly letters carved into her flesh:

_IX._

"Jax!" he cried joyfully, leaping to his feet. "You're OK!"

Jax smiled sadly at him. Peter paused. "Hello, Peter."

He looked at her suspiciously. "Is something wrong?"

"You were very brave that night," Jax ploughed on. "You saved my life."

Peter shrugged bashfully. "Couldn't have done it without you," he said honestly.

Jax continued to ignore him. "I owe you so much for what you've done for me, Peter. But we all have to grow up some time, don't we?"

Peter's face fell. "What… what do you mean?"

Jax's sad smile didn't waver. "Goodbye, Peter."

Peter's stomach felt hollow, as though he had just been punched very hard in the gut. His mouth swung open and his eyes stared sightlessly. For the first time in a long time, he was speechless. Jax leaned forwards and kissed him lightly on the cheek; as she did so, there was a flurry of bells and a golden light settled around them both, the sparks landing on Peter's skin with a gentle zap. Jax lingered, stood straight. She turned on her heel and walked away, and only someone who had been looking for it would have seen the golden light zipping into her messy bun as she left.

Peter felt a humming inside of him, felt his heart swell. A grin crept up his face and he let the feeling build until he could contain it no longer. He released it into the air and sprang forwards, soaring through the air and shooting down the corridor, a perfectly streamlined blur racing past the panicking nuns and children. Papers were sent in a flurry as he sped past and people fled before him. A nun flung herself out of the way, leaving the door wide open; Peter shot through and flew straight for Jax, angling up at the last moment and ripping her hood up over her head. He spiralled into the sky and crowed triumphantly, hearing only the wind rushing in his ears and Jax's laughter.

Speaking of which, the girl herself now floated up to join him. Dancer fluttered by her shoulder. "Good to see you again, Pete," she grinned. "Nice escape."

Peter did a gleeful figure-eight, oblivious to the crowds gathering below them. "Oh, the cleverness of me!"

Jax rolled her eyes. "Of course, I did nothing."

Peter shrugged. "You did a little."

Jax caught his eye and grinned. "It's good to see you again too."

Peter smiled back shyly; a golden light appeared in front of his face and a little face punched him on the nose. _You're an idiot._

"I can understand you now," Peter said bluntly. The fairy seemed to flush for a moment, but turned away before Peter could see it properly. He turned his head and grinned at the darkening sky. "The stars'll be out soon," he said conversationally. "And then we'll have Neverland to ourselves! No pirates!"

"Actually, Ninth managed to escape," Jax said matter-of-factly. "Smee threw a rope at the last moment, just after we left. If they've got any sense, they'll have given up on world domination and just gone back to Neverland."

Peter slumped. "Oh."

Jax shrugged. "It's more fun that way. You'd go mad without any pirates to fight, let's face it."

Peter snorted. "I have more ways of keeping myself entertained, thank you very much."

"Whatever you say," Jax said airily, but her tone suggested she knew something Peter didn't. "Just tell me about Wendy Darling."

Peter blinked and stared at her. "Who?"

Jax grinned and exchanged a quick glance with Dancer. "Nothing, nothing."

"Tell me!"

"Look, it's getting dark," Jax said suddenly. "You can see the star."

Peter looked down at the gathering crowd beneath their feet. "Guess that's our cue, then."

"Indeed it is. Ready to go home?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

Jax smacked her lips and rubbed her hands. "I've never really flown properly before. This should be fun."

"Last one there's a rotten egg!"

Peter shot off. Dancer looked at Jax and shrugged hopelessly, tearing off after him. With a cry, Jax straggled on behind them, following the glittering trail of fine golden dust to the second star to the right.

"Straight on till morning," Jax yawned, then grinned. It was a morning worth waiting for.

**A/N: Finished :( Thank you all so much for reading, this story isn't one of my more popular ones so I really love all the reviews and faves and everything X3 Thank you for your support, I LOVE YOU ALL! :D **


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